


Darwin's Song

by Clea2011



Category: seaQuest
Genre: Angst, Character in peril, F/M, Season/Series 01, Very old fanwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 85,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after the events of 'Such Great Patience'<br/>Krieg, being Krieg, took something off the alien ship.  His actions have consequences for everyone, especially Hitchcock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this nearly 20 years ago, it went out as a fanzine, I'm just putting it up here so it's online. Apologies for any errors etc.

Daylight.

Filtering down through the water, dancing beams of sunlight hopelessly diffracted, shining, dazzling, beautiful.  Darwin kicked his tail and raced up through them, excited by the thought of breathing real air again.  The strange, irresistible humans who lived where they should not, did not understand the need for this.  The need to feel the sun through the water, to see the sky.  They could not understand it, for why else would they choose to live down there?

The sea was his home, true.  But he breathed air, the last legacy of the way his kind once lived, before they crawled back into the ocean.  Lucas had explained this to him once, trying to give him a sense of history, and then had fed him a fish.  Darwin had enjoyed the fish.  He enjoyed being with Lucas, too, and Bridger, most of the humans in fact.  Liked the fuss that they made of him, was impressed that they had learnt his language, liked the way that they had adapted their world to accommodate him.  But he was still a creature of the wild, a spirit of the sea, and he needed to be free.

Kicking harder, wanting to breathe, Darwin broke the surface and cried out for the sheer pleasure of it.  The humans had been annoying him, asking so many questions that he could not answer.  Had asked him to explain the strange, golden, non-human that had come on board the seaQuest, when he could not.  So many questions, it had been a tremendous relief when Kristen had let him out to feed.  Down below, he knew, they would all still be asking one another their questions, not understanding.

Darwin understood.  The shining one had been there, and now was not.  They would worry and fret, and when he returned they would ask him more questions, run more tests.  And still the shining creature would not reappear, because it was gone.  It puzzled him why they cared so much for something that was no longer a problem. 

But then, the humans frequently puzzled him.  It was nothing new.  It was one of the reasons that he stayed, because they were so puzzling and interesting to him.  That, and the fish.

Singing, with no-one to hear, Darwin glided through the clear water, in no hurry to return.  This was what was important.  This was what mattered.  The sheer, pure joy of being alive, of being a dolphin, of swimming, wild and free.

_Dolphin swim!_

The humans did not understand.  But they could not swim like he could, so he forgave them, benevolently.

And leapt, in a perfect arc, the sun glistening on his back as he slid quietly beneath the waves, still singing.

 

\-----

 

Crocker needed a drink.

He really, really needed a drink.

Sitting in Medbay, with Doctor Westphalen and Doctor Levin running all kinds of tests on him, Crocker was as near as it was possible for him to get to being mutinous.  He was the eighth of the thirty-four crewmembers who had been ‘killed’ by the alien visitor to be examined, and from the looks on the two doctors faces, they were learning no more from him than they had from any of the others.

Crocker did not particularly like Levin.  The man was a little strange, to Crocker’s way of thinking.  He was interested in the paranormal, which had proved useful during their encounter with the sunken wreck of the George and all she contained, but generally that was a subject Crocker liked to steer as far clear of as he could.

_Some would say it’s bad luck having someone like that on board._

Crocker silenced his own doubts, and kept his thoughts to himself.  He was security chief, and could not afford to be prejudiced.  But all the same...

He glanced over at Levin warily.  The man’s long dark hair tied back into a ponytail, and his large protruding eyes, combined with his height and pallor all added together to create an appearance that would not have looked out of place on the main villain in some of the more gory psycho movies Krieg had in his vast collection.  The fact that Doctor Levin was one of the most calm and peaceful men on the boat did nothing to ease Crocker’s fears.

“They always seem quiet and nice in the movies, too,” he muttered under his breath. The two doctors turned around, not having heard him properly.

“Did you say something, Chief?” Kristen enquired.

“Jus’ wondering when I’d get out of here.”

She smiled, and folded her arms across her chest.  “You can go.  Thank you for your time.  Send the next one in as you leave.”

Levin just stared at him, impassive.  Crocker quickly slid off the end of the bed and hurried out, almost forgetting in his haste to get away that he should call Ensign Fulbright.

“Chief!”

Crocker looked around at the sound of Krieg’s voice.  He had seen the supply officer talking to Chief Shan as he was sent in, and was a little surprised to find him still there.

“What did you want, Ben?” he asked a little suspiciously.  The victim of too many of the man’s money-making schemes, he was always on his guard these days when Krieg was around.

The supply officer grinned at him broadly, and Crocker groaned inwardly.

Here we go again.

”I’m not buying anything,” he added for good measure.  The grin faded, and Crocker watched the younger man’s eyebrows climb higher up his face, as his eyes widened in self-righteous indignation.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.  It was... I just wanted to know... what was it like being shot by an alien ray-gun?”

Crocker stared at the supply officer in disbelief.

“What was it like...?” he echoed slowly.  “What the heck do you need to know that for?”

“I’m interested!”

Crocker narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and folded his arms across his thick chest.  “And just why are you interested, Ben?  What’s in it for you?  Thinking of selling an exclusive story to the media, are we?  The captain’s orders...”

“The captain’s orders are that we don’t breathe a word of this to anyone other than those who already know,” Ben finished quickly for him.  “No, Chief, I’d never say anything.  You don’t know what it meant to me, being part of that exploratory group.  Going out there, into the unknown...” his gaze grew distant, remembering, and Crocker was sure that the man’s eyes were starting to glaze over.  “An alien spaceship...a real alien spaceship, and I got to take a look first hand, before anyone else!”

“Ben...”

“I was the first one, you know?  The first one to actually see the alien?  You should’ve come with us, Chief, the ship was incredible!”

Crocker pushed back his cap, and scratched at his head, wondering what he had done to deserve this and not entirely convinced that Ben was not about to launch into an elaborate scam.  “Reckon I saw enough of it from where I was.  More than enough.  If I’d wanted to explore alien spaceships I’d’ve joined the space program.”

Ben was still caught up in his own fascination with the subject.  “I wish I had.  Hey,” his face broke into an enthusiastic grin.  “Maybe I could ask Commander Keller to put a word in for me?  Get me transferred?  Whaddaya think?”

Crocker laughed, and patted the younger man on the shoulder.  “I think you’re too old, Ben, and unless you pull your head out of the clouds pretty soon you’re never gonna be anything more than a lieutenant in the navy.  Now, if you don’t mind, the captain wants me to put together a report on this...”

The security chief started to walk off down the corridor, but Krieg followed, totally undaunted by the man’s words.

“Too old!  That’s a new one!  No-one’s ever said I was too old before!” He was grinning from ear to ear, still on an all-time high from the visit to the alien ship.  Nothing was going to bring him down in the near future, Crocker could tell.

 Why me?  There’s over sixty people left on this ship, why did he have to decide to share this with me?!

“Too childish, too immature...” Krieg was prattling on, totally oblivious to the security chief’s lack of interest.  “Too...”

“Ben,” Crocker put up a hand to stop him.  “I’ve gotta go.”

Mercifully, the MAG-LEV doors a few feet down the corridor opened at that moment, and Crocker made a break for it.

”But you didn’t tell me what it was like being shot,” he heard Krieg call plaintively as the doors slid closed.

As the shuttle raced back towards his quarters, Crocker sat back and closed his eyes, exhausted mentally and physically by the day’s events.  He did not want to think about the alien ship, or about being shot, or the terrible, unacceptable face of the creature that had loomed up out of the darkness at him.  But he could not help it.  As soon as he closed his eyes it was there, golden and faintly glowing, raising its arm towards him, never giving him a chance.

And it had felt like nothing, in the end, being shot.  Once, Crocker had caught a bullet in the shoulder in the line of duty, and several times he had been battered by solid objects.  But on each of those occasions it had hurt, the pain had been something solid and real to cling to, telling him that he was still alive.

It had been like being hit by a flash of light, then abruptly being in another place.  Totally painless, and soundless, and without any sensation so to speak.  Just suddenly he had been somewhere else.

He had looked the creature in the face, been afraid, but stood his ground.  That was his job, no matter how great the risk.  But the creature had never given him a chance, firing at him before he could even aim his gun properly.  It had been very clear in his mind, as the charge hit him, that he should have stayed with the others and protected them.

Yet here was Krieg, wandering around bold as brass, ecstatic from the encounter, totally unafraid.  To Crocker’s way of thinking, however, it was not bravery but foolhardiness.  Krieg, he supposed, would have run up to the alien with his arms outstretched, and never even seen the blast that killed him.

Crocker shook his head.  Of course, the creatures had been peaceful after all, as it turned out.  They had given oblivion, twice, then taken it back.

_Something to tell my grandchildren about!_

Except Bridger had ordered silence on the subject.

He had very little memory of that first place he had been sent.  Just a sense that there had been a large number of crewmen around him, all frightened, puzzled and confused.  It had been dark, he could see nothing, just hear their voices, feel their bodies around him.  And then, just as he realised Shan was beside him and was about to speak to him, there was the flash of light again and they were suddenly standing waist-deep in a moon pool on Sea Deck.

Nobody had been hurt, just shaken by the experience.  Yet Crocker still felt a certain unease in the knowledge that as security chief he had totally failed to protect the crew from this attack, that if the aliens had been hostile and dangerous, that he could not have done anything to stop them.

And that ship was a million years old.  At least.  _Who’s to say they haven’t been corrupted in that time?  What if they hear our message and come back with reinforcements who want to shoot us with something other than bright lights?  What then?_

 Crocker shuddered, not wanting to think about that.

 

\-----

 

“Thirty-two...thirty-three...thirty-four...” Commander Jonathan Ford slammed the butterfly press together with all his might, trying to use it to drive away the apprehension he felt.

He had agreed to their keeping the discovery of the alien ship, and the encounter thereafter, within the confines of the ship.  Agreed to it, but not liked the idea.  Ford had niggling doubts about it, even now.  But those were nothing compared to the doubts he entertained regarding the use of the seaQuest as a homing beacon for the aliens‘ return.  He had been the last of the officers to agree to that, and then only grudgingly because he was so outnumbered and the captain felt it was right.

Nathan Bridger was a man Jonathan Ford held in the very highest regard.  He respected the man’s decision in this case, but could not make himself agree with it.  So many of their crewmates had been obliterated, so easily.  They had been returned unharmed, it was true, but the threat was still there.  These aliens, with technology that had been given a million years to develop from something that was already in advance of anything on Earth, could be a huge threat.  There was certainly nothing that a lone submarine, no matter how special, could do to stop them.  Probably, there was nothing anyone could do, but Ford would have felt better if more people knew.  Apart from anything else, he liked Bridger too much to want to see him go down in history as the man who sold out the human race.

The door to the gym slid open, to reveal Chief Shan and Lieutenant Phillips, both dressed in shorts and t-shirts, deep in conversation.  Both men had been attacked by the alien creature that had come aboard the seaQuest, and Ford could understand their need to work out the tension they had to be feeling after that.  They nodded to him, and to Hitchcock who was working out on the rowing machine, and headed for the treadmills.

“If he comes near me once more,” Shan was muttering, “with his stupid questions and voice-recorder...”

“Voice recorder?” Phillips echoed.  “He came after me with a video camera!  I nearly knocked it down his throat!  It was bad enough being shot, and having all these tests, without a wannabe futurist hounding me for my view of life inside a ray-gun!”

Phillips switched on the treadmill, and the hum from that made it difficult for Ford to hear all of what was said after that.  But the snatches that he caught indicated that the pair had been bothered by someone who appeared to be making it their personal business to find out everything they could about the alien encounter.  When he heard Krieg’s name mentioned, he abandoned the butterfly press and virtually flew across the room to the two junior officers to switch off their machines.  Shan managed to stop in time, but Phillips had been distracted, talking, and cannoned into the speedometer.

“Commander!” he protested, rubbing his chest.

“Sorry.”  Ford looked to Shan, knowing he was more likely to get a straight answer to his question from the oriental.

“Will, what reason’s Krieg giving for all this ‘research’?”

Shan shrugged, and glanced at Phillips.  “He told me he was just interested.”

Phillips nodded.  “Me too.”

Ford’s expression darkened.  “Krieg’s not interested in anything unless it involves a profit,” he surmised, a little unfairly but not without justification.  “If he thinks he’s gonna sell this to the media...” Snatching up a towel, Ford rapidly began to rub himself down.  “Where is he?”

“He was outside Medbay when he accosted us,” Phillips told him.

“I don’t think he’s intending selling the story,” Shan added.  “He seemed just genuinely interested.” Ford threw down the towel in disgust.  “It’s Krieg!” he snarled.  “Of course he’s interested!” Behind him, Hitchcock had climbed off the rowing machine and was towelling herself down.

“I’ll go and stop him,” she stated calmly.  “Before he upsets anyone else.”

Ford turned on her angrily, still so tensed up that at that point he was finding it very hard not to snap at everyone and everything.  “No, I’ll go down, Commander!  It’s about time Krieg realised this is no picnic!  He’s going for this whole business like it’s some sort of Sunday treat!  We could all have been killed, and I thought for a while that some of us were!!”

With that, he stormed out of the gym, and stomped off down the corridor towards the MAG-LEV.  Katie gave a heavy sigh, pushed back her damp hair, and ran after him.

“Jonathan!”

He stopped beside the MAG-LEV and held the doors open for her, then followed her inside.  They sat down, Ford trying to maintain a stony silence which Hitchcock quickly broke.

“Don’t be too hard on Ben, Jonathan.  He’s genuinely interested in the subject, believe me!”

Ford turned his head to look at her, the anger still there in his face.  Hitchcock knew him well enough to realise that he was deeply disturbed by the visitation, something that he could not explain away rationally.

“If this hits the world’s media...”

“It won’t do.  Not from Ben.  Look, if I had a dollar for every sci-fi interactive he put me through, I’d...be able to afford a pretty good vacation by now!  He’s always been into that sort of thing, and I’m sure that’s all there is to it.  To him, this really is a Sunday treat!”

Ford grunted disgustedly.  “I wish I shared your faith.  He’s unreliable, Katie.”

“You just don’t like him.”

“No.  It’s true, I don’t,” Ford threw up his hands despairingly.  “But what can I do?  First chance I had to get him transferred he risks his life to save the ship!  And I admired him for that.  Still do.  But this...this...nefarious quality he has...no, I don’t dislike him, I just don’t trust him.  He’s irresponsible, and one day that’s going to get us all in trouble.”

Katie nodded, calmly, not fooled for a moment.  “Like the transmission to the aliens will,” she stated quietly.

”Yes!  Exactly like that!” Ford almost warmed to his subject, looking as if he were about to launch into an elaborate spiel on the folly of what he saw as a grossly irresponsible action, then realised she did not appear to share his anger.

“Ben’s just an excuse, isn’t he?” she asked gently.  “It’s the captain you’re really angry with.”

“Dammit!” Ford slammed his fist into the side of the MAG-LEV, frustrated and furious.  “We could be attacked at any time!  We’re a sitting duck for beings with their kind of power!  I shouldn’t have gone along with it, it’s a stupid idea!  The signal should be sent from a secure military base, out as far away from civilisation as possible!  That’s assuming it’s to be sent at all, which I’m not convinced of for one moment!”

The MAG-LEV shuttle stopped, and the doors began to slide open, a warm female voice informing the occupants that they were at Medbay.  Hitchcock quickly reached across and closed the doors, freezing the shuttle in position.  No doubt whoever was monitoring the system would wonder why there was an unreported repair taking place, but as Chief Engineer she could explain that away quickly enough if need be.

“Have you told the captain this?  He’d listen, you know that.”

Ford shrugged.  “It’s too late.  You and Ortiz already sent the signal.  They know we’re here, or they will do.  Maybe it’ll take a year or two, but they’ll be coming.”

“But they didn’t hurt anybody.  It was a peaceful mission.”

“It was an unknown lifeform capable of developing, a million years ago, a security mechanism strong enough to displace thirty-four crewmen without any guidance at all.  An intelligent hologram!  What the hell are we inviting to come and visit us?!  We’re gonna look like primates to these creatures!  Backward ones!  And Bridger thinks it’s okay!  I’ve never, ever really disagreed with any of his decisions before, but I don’t like this one.  He spends too much time with the scientific contingent on this ship these days.  I think he’s starting to forget his loyalty to the military!”

Hitchcock was not quite sure what to say.  She knew how much Ford admired Bridger, for him to talk like this then he had to believe very strongly in what he said.  And, up to a point, he was right.  Except...

“Jonathan, I don’t feel threatened by them.  They’ll be back, wanting to make contact...we won’t be primates, more like children, intelligent children wanting to learn.  There’s so much they can teach us.  I’d be happy just learning about the mechanisms in their ship, and that’s only a tiny fraction of what this union could bring!  It’ll be an exchange of knowledge.  Look, if we discovered a backward tribe of aliens on Mars, who couldn’t possibly hurt us, we’d send scientists to make contact, we wouldn’t attack them.”

“We wouldn’t, no.  But you know as well as I do Katie, that there are plenty of people on this planet that would.  Or they’d enslave them.  Okay, maybe we won’t be attacked.  But once the novelty of finding us has worn off, what then?  We could be facing a grim future.  And say the aliens are totally friendly, no strings attached, they’re everything you say they are.  How are they gonna react when some lunatic dictator destroys one of their ships, or kills one of their people?  Because that will happen, I assure you.”

Hitchcock stood up, her hand on the MAG-LEV control panel, recognising it was an argument she could not win.  “I know.  And that’s why the Captain wants them here.  So that first contact is peaceful.  So that they know we aren’t all like that.”

The MAG-LEV doors slid open once again.  Outside, a little way along the corridor, Doctor Westphalen was frog-marching Lieutenant Krieg out of Medbay, her face a study in barely controlled rage.  Krieg was protesting loudly at such treatment, whilst his most recent victim was following behind them, blocking every excuse he came out with.  From what the young woman, whom Hitchcock recognised as one of Westphalen’s junior science officers, was shouting, the senior officers could tell that after the shock of her experience followed by the extensive tests, to be subjected to Krieg’s over-enthusiastic interrogation was just too much.

Ford looked at Hitchcock as if to say ‘I told you so,’ then stepped out of the shuttle as Westphalen bundled Krieg inside.

“Keep out of my labs!” she snapped at the supply officer.  “If I see you so much as sniff around here in the next week, I’ll have Nathan put you on report so fast...”

Ford looked back at Hitchcock, who was still inside the shuttle.

“Peaceful, huh?” he enquired, poker-faced, as the doors slid shut and she disappeared from his view.

Westphalen glared at him suspiciously.  “And what do you want, Commander?”

Ford raised a hand defensively, grinning at her.

“Nothing, Doctor, nothing at all.  Just along for the ride.”

Westphalen snorted disgustedly.  “Just keep Krieg away from my patients, Commander.  In fact, keep him away from this entire level!”  She turned back to the young science officer, and began to guide her gently back towards her office.

Left alone, Ford moved to call the next MAG-LEV shuttle, then thought better of it.  The long walk back to his quarters might give him time to calm down and think clearly.  Hitchcock was right, of course, he had to speak to Bridger about his concern.  But the deed had been done, he could not just walk in and announce it was wrong.  He had to decide what he wanted Bridger to do about it.  And that was the hard part.

Because what could they do, now?

 

\-----

 

“I was only asking.”

Ben Krieg sat mournfully in the MAG-LEV shuttle that was rapidly taking him as far away from the Science section as possible.  His ears were still ringing from the young officer’s shrill tones, and from the lecture he had subsequently received from Doctor Westphalen.  Hitchcock was looking at him seriously now, and he fully expected a second lecture from her.  He was only surprised that Commander Ford had not used the opportunity to lay into him as well.

“I know.  There’s been a few complaints about it.  Maybe you’d like to wait a few weeks before interrogating these people, Ben.  They’ve  been through a lot and don’t want it right now.”

“Complaints?”  Ben looked even more crestfallen.  “About me?”

“About you.  Leave all the victims of the alien ‘attack’ alone, Ben.  If you have any problem with that, I can make it an order.”

He scowled at her.  “This is revenge for all the gore flicks, isn’t it?”

“Actually, no.  I came down here to save you from Jonathan, who, incidentally, doesn’t like the idea of you researching this incident.  Seems to think you’re about to sell your story to the highest bidder for some reason!  Of course, he’s in a really bad mood over the whole business of the alien, and I think he wanted to let off steam.  But if you’re not happy with an order from me, I’m sure I could persuade the commander to do it?  Hmm?”

He gave in, not wanting to be on the receiving end of one of Commander Ford’s lectures more often than was necessary.  And Katie was, annoyingly, right.  It probably did look to anyone who did not know him well that he was out to make a fast buck.

“Okay.  Sorry.  I’ll leave everyone alone.  Not that I’ve got much choice after the doc’s goodwill message.”  He smiled at her, showing there was no hard feelings.  Katie, after all, had been the one to recommend him to the captain as one of the party to go aboard the ship, and for that at least he would be eternally grateful.  And for saving him from Ford, too.

“Thanks.”

She shrugged.  “Jonathan’s not so bad when you get to know him.”

“Not just that.  The exploration team.  You did more than just put my name forward for that, didn’t you?”

Hitchcock tried to push the subject aside, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.  “The captain was a little surprised when I recommended you, so I had to give my reasons.  I did.  No special favours, Ben, I thought you’d be useful on the team, and evidently the captain agreed with me.”

“I’ll bet Ford didn’t!”

She nodded, smiling.  “He did make a few comments, especially after we lost your transmission!  But there was no way the captain would have let him go, he was so uptight about the whole thing he would probably have fired on the first alien you saw and lost the entire party!”

Krieg laughed at that, no love lost between himself and Commander Ford.  The shuttle stopped and they got out, heading for the crew quarters.

“It was me that saw the first alien, you know, Katie?  Not Commander Keller, for all his experience and knowledge.  It was me.  And nothing that anyone does now can ever change that.  In the future, when they write about the first contact, it’ll be Commander Keller, Tim, and me.”

“That’s nice.”

“They’ll probably make a film about it!  I’ll be famous, like Neil Armstrong!”

Katie, with her long experience of his enthusiasm for the subject, resigned herself to the fact that he was going to take a very long time to get over this one, and patiently allowed him to go on.  And on.  And on...

When they reached his cabin, she hoped that she was about to escape, but he would not let her go that easily.

“Don’t go yet.  Come inside, I want to show you something.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, but there was none of the usual double-edged ambiguity that he liked to attach to such a request, so she complied.

“I have to be on duty in less than an hour,” she reminded him, conscious that she was still in shorts and vest, and not a lot else.  “And you should be getting ready too.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.  Just look at what I...” he stopped, and she could almost see the little cogs and gears that she always felt were the engines of his mind, turning over and over as he looked at her.  “No.  You go get ready for duty, you’re right, this can wait.”

The nasty little suspicion that had formed in her mind the moment he got carried away and had said that he had something to show her, took root and began to grow.  She stayed where she was, noting that he was developing that crooked smile he had whenever he was trying too hard to be pleasant.

“Oh no, you show me whatever it is now, Ben.”

“It’s nothing.”  The grin congealed.

“If you don’t, I’ll report your pestering of the crew to the captain...”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.  You’ve taken something off that ship, haven’t you?”

Ben’s shoulders drooped in defeat, aware that she knew him too well.  It had served him well when he had wanted to get on the mission, but it was a hindrance now.

“Of course not!”  Too bright.  “It was just some...some...” he kept his face turned towards her, but his eyes were darting around the room frantically.  “...some new life-jacket samples from Japan!  Do you think there’s a call for extra life-jackets on our launches?”  He ran across the room and pulled a bright yellow packet out from behind a pile of boxes.

“Ben...” There was that warning tone in her voice again.

“You don’t want to see the life-jackets?  See, I didn’t think you would, that’s why I thought you should just go get ready for duty.”

“Show me what you took off the ship.”  She folded her arms across her chest, not budging an inch.

“You look just like your mother when you do that.”  He saw he was getting nowhere.  “Okay, okay, I’ll show you.  But you gotta promise not to tell anyone.”

“If it’s a danger to the ship I’ll have no choice.”  She unfolded her arms, and stepped up closer as he turned and pulled open a drawer.

“It’s not dangerous.  Just a souvenir.”  He reached under the clothing and pulled out a small box.

“And you keep it in your sock drawer?” Katie wrinkled her nose in distaste.  “I remember your socks.  Yuck!”

“Lucas gets in here and pokes around.  It’s about the only place he won’t go.”

“Smart kid.”  She leaned over, trying to see the box better.  “Well open it, then.”

“Hang on.”  Still clutching the box, he ran across the room and closed the door, checking that no-one was anywhere nearby.  To Katie’s bemusement he then bent down and peered through the ventilation grille.

“What are you doing?!”

“Well, Lucas...” he began, then realised how strange his explanation was going to sound and decided against it.  “Never mind.  Here,” he carried the little box over to a table that was already covered with half-empty boxes of pencils, watches, and lightbulbs, cleared a small space and put the box down.  He sat down and very, very carefully opened the lid, to draw out what looked like a ball of crumpled tissue paper.

Fascinated despite herself, Katie pulled up a chair and drew close to him, both bending over the package until their heads were nearly touching.

“Look,” Ben lifted the small object gingerly out of its protective wrapping, and balanced it in the palm of his hand.  Katie looked.

It was small, perfectly spherical, like a large marble, the colour of milky agate shot through with lime.  It glistened as if it were wet, and as he held it she thought it was very faintly starting to glow.

“Not another glowing rock, Ben!  Are you sure you haven’t picked up an alien faecal pellet?!”

She could not help it, it just came out.  Krieg’s hand closed protectively over the ball, and he drew back from her, looking injured.  The fact that he did not say anything alerted her to how much her mockery over this had wounded him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, come on, let me see it again,” she tried smiling at him.  These days that usually shocked him into complying with whatever request she had made.

Reluctantly, he bent forwards again, confidentially close, and reopened his hand.  The object was definitely glowing now, pulsing as if it were alive.  Gingerly, she reached out and touched it lightly.

Instantly it stopped.  Katie let her hand drop, believing she had been made a fool of.

“Is this your idea of a joke?!”

“No!”  He was looking at the object in genuine puzzlement.  “I don’t think it likes you!”

Katie glared at him, drawing her hand back sharply.  “Oh very funny, Ben,” she stood up quickly, almost knocking over her chair as she did so.  “Jonathan was all ready to come down on you like a ton of bricks, but I intervened and you thank me by trying some stupid sucker trick!”

“But...”

“Next time you’re on your own!  Hell, I even helped get you on the exploration party, I wish I’d never bothered!”

“Katie...” he put the object back in its box, quickly but still carefully, then scrambled to his feet and caught her arm as she turned to go.  “Wait up.  It’s not a joke...Don’t tell anyone I took it, Katie, it’s just a souvenir.  Something that’s mine from all this.  Please?”

She faced him, studying his eyes, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not.  She did not like being fooled, and did not entirely trust him, but he really did seem genuine.  She sighed, and sat back down, picking up the box.

“Okay...”

Ben sat down quickly beside her, cupping his hands beneath hers in case she dropped it.  “Be careful.”

“Okay!”  She reached into the box and pulled out the small globe.  It sat in the palm of her hand, dull and dead.  “I suppose you’ll say it still doesn’t like me?!”

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It was like that when I first got it.  I didn’t think it was anything at all, I found it lying on the ground when we were in the cockpit, and I just scooped it up.  The others were around the corner, Tim called the commander to see the alien’s body and so they didn’t see me do it.  When I got it back here and was looking at it, it just started to glow.  Faint at first, but now it’s... well, you saw what it does.  It hums, too.”

Dubiously, Katie put it to her ear.  There was nothing to hear and she told him so.

“If you say that’s because it doesn’t like me...” she warned, smiling at him, suddenly caught up in the fascination the artefact had for him.

He laughed easily, and cupped his hands around hers, causing the globe to begin to glow again.  “No, see?  How could it not!”

His hands felt warm and strong, and completely covered hers, whilst his cheerfully grinning face was only inches from her own.  Not sure that she wanted this close proximity, she quickly looked down, focusing on the globe.  It too felt warm.  And it was soft to the touch, not as rigidly solid as it looked.

“What do you think it is?” she asked, aware that he was still looking at her despite his gaze not being returned.

“I don’t know.  But it seems to respond to me now whenever I touch it.  Are you going to report me for this, Katie?”

She looked up then, and realised how very close he was.  She knew that the artefact should be in Doctor Westphalen’s laboratories, being dissected and studied.  But in her palm it glowed even more warmly, and she began to feel that it would be very wrong to report its existence to the doctor.

“N..no.  I... don’t think it’s doing any harm.  You really should let Doctor Westphalen have it though.”

“Keller took a few things for study.  And we have the film.  This is mine, Katie.”

“Okay,” she was for some reason reluctant to let it go.  The gently pulsing glow was very soothing and relaxing.  Krieg solved the problem by taking it from her and holding it up to her ear again.  She could hear the sound now, like some wild creature calling faintly in the distance, and she gazed at it in fascination when he moved it away.

It was a pale, light, solid globe of matter, it had no visible means of supporting itself.  And yet, it almost seemed alive.  Still, Katie could not think of a reason to tell anyone about it.  One day she would look back and wonder why she had kept quiet, but at that point it seemed perfectly natural.

“It’s lovely.  No, you’re right, no-one needs to take it from you.”  She smiled, both at him and at the artefact, and it glowed brighter than ever.  And it felt perfectly natural as he slid his arms around her and pulled her close, to raise her face and kiss him as she had a thousand times before...

”God, Ben!”  She pushed him away and stood up fast, flustered and embarrassed, not quite sure why she had done it.  And if she was flustered, it was obvious from the consternation on his face that Krieg was totally confused by her behaviour.

“Katie...”

“No!” She pushed him away as he stood and took a step towards her.  “I don’t know why I did that.  Don’t...it didn’t mean anything, Ben.”

He stared at her for a long, silent moment, then very slowly and deliberately crouched to scoop up the little alien globe, which he had dropped when she kissed him.  He looked it over, then slipped it into its box and straightened up.  She could see it glowing even through the packaging, until he placed the box on the table.  Only then did he face her again.

“Would it make a difference,” he asked, “if it meant something to me?”

Oh hell!

Katie looked quickly at her watch.  “I have to go, Ben.  Just forget it, okay.”  She turned to leave, but he darted in front of her, blocking her path.

“No, it’s not okay.  You can’t just leave it like that!  It has to mean something to you!”  He reached out and tried to draw her closer to him, gently but firmly placing his hands either side of her waist and pulling her towards him.  “Look, I never really thought it was over between us.  There was always something...”

“No!”  She pushed his hands away, firmly, hoping that there could be no doubt.  “I’m sorry, Ben.  I don’t know what came over me just then, but it wasn’t undying love and don’t kid yourself that it was.  Maybe just a reaction to everything that’s happened, I don’t know.”  She saw the hope die in his eyes and was both relieved and sorry at the same time.  “Look, I admit, I was concerned whilst you were over on the alien ship, especially when we lost your signal.  When that creature came over here and started shooting everyone I thought you were dead.  Yes, I care about you...” she saw him brighten, the pleasure manifesting itself into a cocky grin, “...but as a friend, that’s all.  Like I am to you,” she added as his eyes darkened in disappointment again.  Choosing to be kind, which also had the attraction of being a nice easy way out, she smiled warmly at him, and continued: “I know all that stuff you just said was to stop me making a fool of myself, but you needn’t have worried.  That was very sweet of you, Ben, but a bit dangerous.  Why, if I’d been serious you could’ve been stuck with me again!”

He managed to wince at the thought, although she could see that the sentiment did not quite reach his eyes.  “Heaven forbid!”

“Didn’t think that far ahead, huh?”

“No.”

“I really do have to go.  Remember what I said, try to leave everyone alone for a while.  Not everyone shares your enthusiasm for our little encounter.”

“I know.”

Katie wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room.  She had known him too long, too well, not to realise from his monosyllabic replies that she had unintentionally cut him deeply.  But with no alternative other than a return to a union that had eventually made both of them unhappy, she had no choice.  She attempted a smile, that came out looking as forced as it felt.

“I’ll... see you later, then.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go,” she had backed as far as the door.

“Yeah.”

He looked down, away from her, to the box he had placed on the table.  For a brief moment Katie was hit by a worrying certainty that there was something in that box which should not be there.  But as she could not quite seem to focus her mind on exactly what it was, she shrugged the feeling off and made her escape, more concerned by her own lack of control than anything else.

Ben, she knew, would get over it quite quickly.

Suddenly aware of the time, she pushed Krieg to the back of her mind and made a dash for her cabin, not wanting to be late back on duty.

 

\-----

 

“Captain.”

There was a resigned note to O’Neill’s voice, Bridger thought as he looked up in response to the comtech’s call.  He knew what the young lieutenant was going to say even before he said it.  Before he opened his mouth to call to the captain even.  From the second he had heard the distant bleep of an external communication reaching the ship.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“It’s the editor-in-chief of Underwater Scientist this time sir.  They want to speak to Doctor Westphalen.”

“Usual procedure.”

Tim grimaced, and spun in his chair back to face his control bank.  “Doctor Westphalen is busy right now.  Your communication has been logged and she’ll be in touch when she’s free,” Bridger heard him say, for at least the twentieth time that day.  He also heard the connection break off, and the comtech mutter under his breath:

“I feel like a damned secretary!  I’ll be typing memos next!”

It was understandable.  The lieutenant had spent his entire duty fending off one timely communication after another.  It seemed that everyone on the planet had heard that something had happened and wanted to find out more.  Of course, Bridger was well aware that the security clampdown had been enormous, and none of the interested parties had much of an idea what they were actually enquiring about.  Still, they had caught a sniff of something big, and he could hardly blame them for wanting to follow it up.

O’Neill’s comment, however, reminded him of other pressing matters.  The junior grade lieutenant tended to be a little nervous of senior officers, and Bridger decided to gently tease him.

“Funny you should say that, Lieutenant.  There’s a mountain of paperwork stacking up in the Ward Room, when you’ve got a spare few minutes...”

O’Neill stared at him in horror and some disbelief, not quite daring to protest to the captain, but obviously feeling it was more than a little unjust.  But Ortiz, closer to Bridger, caught the twinkle of amusement in his eye and started to laugh, the rest of the Bridge Crew quickly joining in.  With some relief O’Neill realised the captain was joking, and smiled, a smile quickly cut short as his station bleeped for attention again.

Bridger left him to it, well aware that there was no-one better than O’Neill at diverting awkward callers as diplomatically as possible.  The mood on the Bridge had lightened at last, his little crack had not been particularly funny but it had lifted the apprehensive quiet that had fallen over the ship since their encounter.  His crew was starting to look less hunted, to chat across their stations to one another again.  It was a good thing, as the crewmembers that had been removed for the encounter were now trickling back on board, asking awkward questions.

The atmosphere thus eased, Bridger had the leisure to notice that when his third-in-command came onto the Bridge it was without some of her usual confidence.  The chief engineer stood between the clam-shaped doors and looked around carefully before she strode over to her station.  He thought nothing of it at the time, and was about to go over and quickly brief her on the media situation so that she could take over and he could escape, when O’Neill called to him.

“It’s Secretary-General Noyce, Sir.  He wants to speak to you.”

Bridger’s dreams of retiring to the peace of his cabin evaporated around him.  Reluctantly, he nodded to the communications officer.  Noyce had, after all, over-ridden General Thomas’ order that Bridger be relieved of command, so the captain owed him something for that at least.

“Go ahead, Mister O’Neill.  Put him on the main viewer.”

The round, lined face of the acting secretary-general loomed up immediately, as requested.  Noyce looked harassed.  Admittedly, he always looked harassed, particularly since being forced into a post he did not want and was not enjoying, but Bridger noticed that his old friend was looking even worse than usual.  He could easily guess the cause, and sure enough the man got straight to the point.

“Nathan, there’s been a leak.”

Bridger raised an eyebrow, turned his head to share that expression with the rest of the Bridge crew, then swung back to Noyce.

“Really?”

The acting secretary-general chose to ignore the heavy sarcasm in his tone, and continued:

“So far, no-one’s guessed exactly what happened down there, Nathan, and you and your crew’d better make sure no-one does.  Hell, if this gets out there’ll be pandemonium!”

Bridger regarded the excited man calmly.  “And what do they think happened?”

“The press think Scott Keller’s down there picking up more debris from the Mars Mission.  That was fine, until one of his crew was questioned and denied that there could possibly be anything left to pick up.  Not his fault, he didn’t know about this, and the information he gave out was unclassified.  It’s silly season and there’s story-hunters everywhere.  There hasn’t been this much interest in the U.E.O. for years.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“What?” Noyce’s face creased into a frown.

”Interest in the U.E.O.  Have someone leak it that this is a hoax staged by the U.E.O. to generate publicity.  Once they think we want publicity, they’ll lose interest so fast we won’t be able to pay them to come back!”

He watched Noyce considering it, almost able to see the cogs turning in his brain.  Then the round face broke into a grin.

“Can’t hurt to try!  Brilliant, Nathan.  Now listen,” he leant closer to the camera, and Bridger felt his heart sink, aware he was about to discover the main reason for Noyce’s call.

”The discovery of that ship is having all sorts of repercussions.  The U.E.O. wants it hushed up.  If it’s made public knowledge there’re aliens around there’ll be trouble like you can’t imagine.”

 “Nobody was hurt, we had a headache epidemic, that’s all.  Doctor Westphalen’s given everyone a thorough examination.  She says they’re all fine.”

Noyce frowned.  “I have a lot of respect for Kristen, Nathan, but this isn’t really her field, is it?”

“She’s a medical doctor!  Of course it’s her field!” Bridger could see where Noyce was leading, and he did not like it at all.

“She’s not an extra-terrestrial expert, though, is she?  A marine biologist, yes, but what experience has she in alien lifeforms?”

“What experience do any of us have in it?!” Bridger retorted.  “Kristen examined my crew...”

“I have to send a team of specialists down to interview your crew,” Noyce interrupted quickly.  “No arguments, Nathan, I’m getting a lot of pressure over this.”

“You’re Secretary General, surely you can refuse?  I don’t want my crews’ lives disrupted any more than they already have been.  And the more people who know about this, the more likely it is to get out.  I don’t need a bunch of U.E.O. stuffed shirts on my ship pestering my crew...”

”Not U.E.O.  These guys are from the Alien Encounter Program.  This comes from way over my head, Nathan.  I’m sorry, there’s no choice.  They’ll be with you in about five hours.  Give them your full co-operation.” The screen blinked into darkness as the connection was severed at Noyce’s end.

Bridger disliked taking on new scientists, especially ‘specialist’ ones who would doubtless try to take over the entire science section, which in turn would inflame Westphalen, who would rage at him as if he could do something about it.  And then there was the rest of his crew.  He had not had a chance to speak to Crocker in private yet, but he knew the incident had badly shaken his old friend.  Crocker was not one for this sort of thing at all, he liked to have rational explanations, acceptable explanations, for everything.  And for this there were none. And then, there was the satellite transmission...

If Noyce’s team came aboard they would find out about that.  Noyce himself would be furious at being deceived about the aliens, and livid about not being consulted over the signal.  Keller had agreed it, but they all knew that he was as far out of line as the rest of them.  None of them had any business sending such a message without official approval, even if it was just dolphin song.

And it was more than just dolphin song.  Much more.

He resumed his original course to Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock’s station.  The beautiful chief engineer quickly made herself look busy.  She, like most of the Bridge crew, had been watching the exchange with interest.  Behind him, he was vaguely aware that O’Neill had received yet another call from an inquisitive journalist, and was once again trying to fend it off.

Bridger briefed Hitchcock quickly, no longer quite so eager to get away, but wanting to tell Westphalen himself before she heard through another source and came storming back at him.

“...and when Commander Ford comes on duty, tell him I need to speak to him,” he finished.

“Yessir,” Hitchcock was not as bright as usual, he noticed.  There had been something wrong earlier, when she had come onto the Bridge, a vaguely hunted look to her that he had never seen before.  Normally she was very together.  But he realised she was looking past him, distracted by something, and her face had creased into a frown.

Turning, he saw Lieutenant Krieg sneaking onto the Bridge, as always a few minutes late for duty.  There was no point in reprimanding him, as supply officer there was always an easy excuse that could not be argued with - someone’s order was late; he was checking a consignment; he had to check his inventory; there was a rush order he had to personally deliver...  Bridger knew that Ford had at one time checked out each of these excuses, but the XO had found them watertight and long-since given up.  It had never bothered Hitchcock, used to the way her ex-husband was she rarely let it get to her.  And yet, now...

Now she was looking back to her captain, a faint flush colouring her pale cheeks as she realised he had followed her gaze.

So there is something...

He would ask Ford to keep an eye on it.  If it was not affecting her work then it did not matter, but if they had been fighting, or worse, made up, Bridger had no wish to see his ship become their second marital battleground.  Ford had told him a little about the first ship they had served on together, once, and he had no wish to see a reprise of that situation on his seaQuest.

 “Any problem, Commander?”

Her startlingly blue eyes held his gaze steadily, seeing that he had noticed something and choosing to be cool.  “Nothing I can’t handle, Sir.”

“Good.  This isn’t the Coleridge, don’t let me think that it is.”  Firm, but not sharp, yet he saw a flash of annoyance in those clear blue eyes.  Hitchcock hated even the hint of criticism, from anyone, but especially from a senior officer.

“Yes, Sir.”

As he walked away, he missed the filthy look she shot at Krieg’s back.

The Science labs beckoned, Kristen and Scott, and all the impotent anger they could throw past him over the new arrivals.  He forgot about Hitchcock and Krieg.

For now.

 

\-----

 

Westphalen was livid.

He had expected it, been prepared, but still he hated to see her so.  Doctor Kristen Westphalen, he had come to acknowledge, meant more to him than just a senior member of the seaQuest staff.

She would never replace Carol, of course, could not, no-one could.  But they were similar in many ways, their bright intelligence, their love of the ocean and fascination with all things in it.  Yet they were vastly different too.  Kristen was forceful in a way Carol had never been.  Sometimes, like now, it was like standing to face a storm, as she battered at him verbally, her words coming at him like stones, furious.

“You’re not being replaced, Kristen, just helped.”

“I don’t need any help!  Don’t those idiots realise I have a team down here to top anything they could send?!”

Scott Keller gently interceded: “What about the signal?” he asked.  “If they find we’ve sent it without authorisation, there’ll be hell to pay.  Couldn’t you put a quarantine on the ship or something, Nathan?”

Typical Keller, to come up with something as impossible as that.  It was a problem with his old friend, he never seemed to be able to grasp the practicalities of everyday living, spending too long with his head in the clouds whilst his feet never quite touched the ground.  Already angry, it was the brittle Kristen who answered him:

“Don’t be ridiculous.  That would only make them more interested.  As it is, only our crew know the full story, and even then only a small number.  Which reminds me, Nathan, your supply officer has been down here pestering my patients.  I think you need to have a word with him about security.  Knowing Ben, I’ll bet he’s spotted a profit angle on this.  I know Katie’s spoken to him, but I’d feel a lot better if you did too.  If this gets out, none of us will have a moments peace.”

Bridger thought of the communications overload that O’Neill was trying to clear up even now, and nodded, seizing the opportunity to direct her from her irritation with him onto another subject: “Okay.  So what have you found?  Anyone pregnant by alien spawn?”

Keller laughed, but for a moment Kristen’s stern face led him to believe he had said the wrong thing.  Then she relaxed, seeing the funny side, and her frown evaporated into a charming smile as she also began to laugh.

“No,” she shook her head, still laughing.  “Although you never know!  Perhaps I should call the chief back and run more tests?!  I mean, I didn’t actually check him for that!”

Keller grinned at her.  “Is that the security guy?”

“That’s the one.”

Keller looked across to Doctor Levin, who was just coming into the room with a fresh set of test samples, and his grin broadened.  Crocker had naively confided his discomfort regarding the doctor to Keller, and the astronaut had no qualms about teasing the ageing security chief gently about it.

“I know just the guy to get onto it!”

Bridger shook his head, amused, but still too concerned about his friend to let another friend start teasing him.  “Leave Crocker alone, Scott.  If you want to torment someone, save it for this science team who’re on their way.  I’m sure they’ll love it.”

Too late he realised what he had said, and saw the anger flare up in Westphalen’s eyes again as she lost her distraction and came straight back to the point again.

“Nathan, if N.A.S.A. thinks it can walk all over me...”

He sighed, inwardly, as his ears prepared to receive another onslaught.  It was, he knew, going to be a very long and tedious assignment.

 

\-----

 

“...and after they captured them, the aliens dissected them and ate them!”

Tim O’Neill was the centre of attention in the mess.  Normally, the shy communications officer sat quietly amidst the others when there were this many of them, preferring to enjoy their chatter rather than push forward his own thoughts.  But his adventure on the alien ship had emboldened him temporarily, and he was in the mood to talk.  And, as communications officer, once he got going it became apparent to all that talking was something he was pretty good at.

”It was supposed to be a joke!” Tim continued, looking around at the others.  “But it distracted me so much I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I wound up falling down this shaft.  Could’ve broken my neck!”

Ortiz, Phillips, Shan and Lucas all stared back at him.  Ortiz and Phillips both had a thoughtful gleam in their eyes, and he knew they were already starting to plot something.  Shan was cool and expressionless.

“Krieg,” he stated, “seems to be pretty unpopular at the moment.”

Ortiz just laughed: “So what’s new?”

Lucas scowled.  “I knew the captain should’ve let me go on the trip.  It was only taking pictures, I could’ve done that.  And I would’ve known how to fix the camera when it broke.”

“We didn’t know it had stopped working,” O’Neill told him.  “To be fair, Ben could see the creature in his viewer.  It was the signal that went down, not the camera.  And we had to put it down anyway, it was destroyed with the ship.  You wouldn’t have made any difference.  But that doesn’t excuse what he did.”  He pursed his lips together.  “There has to be something... some way to get him back...”

Shan looked dubious.  He had not been on the ship very long, and Krieg was after all a senior officer.  The others had no such qualms.

“Go for the thing nearest to his heart!” Ortiz suggested, an evil grin making its way across his face.

“His wallet?” Tim frowned.  “That’d involve surgery!”

“No, stupid, his porno collection,” Phillips grinned.  “He’s never going to report that missing, half the stuff is illegal anyway!”

Ortiz shook his head.  “No, no, no.  You’re thinking too much of the obvious.  There’s two ways to drive Ben absolutely crazy.  One, and by far the best, would be romancing Commander Hitchcock...”

With the exception of Shan, they all laughed.

“Why?” the oriental asked.  “Surely he cannot think he has any chance?”

“He married her!” Phillips explained, enjoying the look of total amazement that spread itself across the chief’s face, quickly replaced by suspicion.

“No...you’re joking, right?  Teasing the new guy?  She’d never...  No.”  He sat back, folding his arms, convinced they were trying to make a fool of him.  “Nice try, guys.”

Lucas frowned, and opened his mouth, about to put the chief right.  But Ortiz caught his eye and gave a quick shake of his head.  Understanding, Lucas quickly clammed up, realising that Shan had just left himself wide open for a genuine wind-up.

“So what’s the other option?” O’Neill asked.  “I hope it’s easier than your first!”

Ortiz leaned forward, motioning for them all to do the same.

“First, are you all in?”

They nodded, Shan very reluctantly, O’Neill far more enthusiastically than usual.  He had not enjoyed his flying lesson at all.

“Good.  Now, the magic word is... supplies.”

                       

\-----

           

“Captain?”

Bridger looked up from the third draft of the report he was trying to write, with some relief.  Never a great appreciator of paperwork, his attempts to put down what had happened to them all for the pending team of ‘experts’ had so far been fruitless.  It was not difficult to make the situation sound harmless, leaving out the hologram and the shootings and the promise of a future encounter, retaining only the ship dissolving.  He did not feel threatened, but he knew that people who had not experienced what he and his crew had would not feel the same.  The sickeningly handsome face of his second-in-command looked back at him, impassive as ever.

“Katie said you wanted to see me.”

”Yes, yes,” Bridger sat back in his chair, and waved towards a vacant seat across the desk from him.  Ford came in and sat down, and Bridger pushed the incomplete missive at him with a smile: “Want to write a report, Jonathan?”

“Sir?” the commander’s face creased into a frown, and Bridger sighed inwardly.

I wish he’d learn to lighten up.

“I’ve got to do a report on our little encounter.”  He pulled it back towards him.  “I think it would be helpful if everyone did.  Will you organise that for me?”

“Yessir.  Was that all?”

“No.  I take it Commander Hitchcock told you about the team coming aboard.”

“Yes.”  Wary.

“It’s a damned nuisance, Kristen is still spitting feathers over it.”

“Yes sir.”

“They’ll want to speak to the crew, mainly the three who boarded the ship, and they’ll be around for a few days.  Some people are going to get very tired of being questioned which is why I want one of my senior staff to act as liaison.  Commander Hitchcock is tied up with monitoring the transmissions at present, so I’m afraid it’s down to you.”

“I see.”

“I know it’s a rotten job...”

“...but somebody’s got to do it.  Don’t worry, sir, I can handle a bunch of E.T. freaks.”

“Good.  Thank you.  You’d better go down and see Kristen about it.”

Ford got up to leave, but as he reached the door Bridger called him back.  “Wait a moment.”

“Sir?” Ford walked back to the desk.

“This takes priority over your other work.  Delegate everything you can to Hitchcock and the other officers.  Which reminds me - have Hitchcock and Krieg had some sort of disagreement?  She was behaving a little strangely towards him on the Bridge earlier.”

“Do you blame her?!  No, in fact they seem to be getting on far better than they used to, if anything.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any easier!”

Ford laughed: “Don’t worry, sir.  Katie’s far too smart to make that mistake twice!  Just be glad of the peace, don’t knock it.”

“No.”  He watched his executive officer turn to leave, then called him back once more.

“Jonathan.”

The commander turned back yet again, half-smiling.  “Sir?”

“You do realise what will happen if these scientists get wind of what we’ve done, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“You weren’t all that convinced we should send it, were you?”

“I’m... apprehensive, sir.”

Bridger folded his hands under his chin, leaning on his elbows.  “Would you rather,” he said, slowly, carefully, “that I asked Hitchcock to do this?”

“Are you asking if you can trust me?” Ford asked stiffly.

“I’m asking if you mind being implicated in this if anything goes wrong.”

The commander relaxed visibly.  “I’m your second-in-command.  I know what you’ve done and I didn’t stop you.  That’s implication enough, isn’t it?  I’ll be in the cell next to you, Captain!  So...I guess there’s not much chance of me dropping you in it.”

“Thank you.”

Jonathan nodded, pursing his lips.  He was beginning to come to terms with it now.  Still did not like it, would never like it, but when it came down to the bottom line, his loyalties lay with the man he respected and whose judgement he trusted above all others.

And now he had to trust that judgement even above his own.

Nobody said that working with Nathan Bridger would be easy.

 

\-----

 

“Katie!”

Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock’s heart sank as she heard a too-familiar voice calling to her as she stepped into the MAG-LEV, coming off-duty at the end of a long and tiring shift.  She pretended not to hear, and was glad to see that there were already several people inside the shuttle that had arrived, all coming off-duty and heading for the crew quarters.  The doors started to close, but that did not stop Ben leaping through the closing gap and almost losing his balance as he collided with the seat opposite the door.

Grinning sheepishly at the other surprised passengers, he turned quickly to sit down before the shuttle burst away from the Bridge, hurtling towards the crew quarters.

Hitchcock had sat at the back of the shuttle, which meant she did not have to sit near him.  Unfortunately, it also meant that she was the last off, and when she exited she found Krieg waiting for her.

“Didn’t hear me call, huh?”

“I’m in a hurry, Ben.  And that was a stupid thing to do, you could’ve broken your neck!” Katie glared at him.

His face broke into the easy, lopsided grin that infuriated her.  Too tired to waste any more time on him, she began to walk back to her cabin.  When he followed she was not surprised.

“You worried about me, Katie?!”

“Worried about the safety example you’re setting junior staff.  Officers are supposed to act with a little more responsibility.”  

“I can be responsible.”

“I’d like to see proof of that!”

“Yeah?”  She looked around, and he was leering at her, but good-humouredly.  It was his idea of a joke.  “I could arrange it if you liked!”

Katie sighed, aware that on this one occasion it was her that was not being entirely fair.  She was avoiding him out of sheer embarrassment over something that she knew was her own fault.  Not that he did not deserve a little unfairness for the amount he had heaped on her over the years, but she had always tried to rise above his level.  She managed a smile, which she knew looked as forced as it felt:  “No thank you.”

“Pity.”

“Give it a rest, Ben, before I report you for sexual harassment.”

He raised an arched eyebrow, still intent on teasing her: “You report me?!  Hey, now I seem to remember...”

“Oh for God’s sake!” she finally exploded, stopping dead and turning on him in fury.  Too late she remembered that there were a few other crewmembers still within earshot as several heads turned back to look at them.  She continued in a lowered voice: “Now understand this, Lieutenant.  We have a working relationship, and a friendship and that is all.  And unless you want to end that friendship I suggest you let the matter drop.  Because otherwise, if I’m not your friend, I might just decide to demonstrate that by reporting to Jonathan or the captain exactly what it is you keep in your sock drawer.  Am I making myself clear?”

The vaguely amused look slid from his features as she spoke.  “Yes.  Perfectly.”

“Good.”  Hitchcock relaxed, feeling more in control again.  “Now,” she began to walk on with him at a slower pace than before.  “Was there anything else?”

He shrugged, pretending not to care.  “I guess not!  Unless you want to get in on the poker game tonight?  Tim pulled out because I’m playing, I think he’s sulking.”

“I won’t ask why.  Okay, count me in.  Usual time and place?”

“Yeah.  As long as you don’t blackmail me into letting you win!”

“Don’t worry.  But I think you should consider keeping quiet about your little toy, for someone who tries so hard to be a conman you’re pretty good at leaving yourself open to blackmail, Ben.  Try keeping your mouth shut, you’d probably find life a lot easier.”

“Yeah.”  He stopped, having reached his cabin.  “Thanks for not saying anything, Katie.  I guess I’ll see you later.”

“I guess you will.”  She smiled at him, and on impulse reached out to squeeze his arm fondly, before walking on towards her own cabin.

She could feel his eyes on her, a little annoyed that she could never show him any sort of affection without him reading too much into it, and did not look back, hurrying on.

So she did not hear his cry of dismay when he opened the door of his cabin and saw what had happened to his supplies.

 

\-----

 

Lucas pressed his nose against the grille that covered the vent in the supply officer’s cabin.  From the safety of the shaft, hidden from view, he could barely suppress his laughter at the expression on Krieg’s face as he looked around in dismay for a few moments, then bolted out of the room.

The moment Krieg was out of earshot, Lucas sniggered, and spoke into the little handset Ortiz had given him:

“He’s gone for it, guys!  Went white as a sheet, and now he’s run off!  Better get the chief ready!”

A few minutes passed, then Lucas heard the sound of running footsteps heading his way, before the cabin door flew open and a panic-stricken supply officer reappeared accompanied by a very calm and solid security chief.  After his interrogation by Krieg that morning, Crocker had no qualms about aiding a harmless prank on the man.

“Look!”  Krieg wailed, gesticulating around the room.  “I’ve been robbed!”

 Crocker looked around, folding his arms against his thick chest, trying very hard not to show his amusement.

All across the floor were little piles beside upturned packets.  Piles of bolts, piles of hinges, piles of tiny chips, piles of clips, piles of any numerous tiny objects that Lucas and Ortiz had been able to find whilst O’Neill stood guard at the door and the other two watched Krieg for any sign of his imminent return.  It did look for all the world like a burglary, but not even the most valueless pin had been taken.

“Quite a mess, Ben,” Crocker stated, looking around.

”Quite a mess?!” Krieg’s eyes almost popped out of his head.  “There’s a thief on board and as head of Security it’s your job to find them!”

“Absolutely,” Crocker agreed.  “So, what exactly has been taken?  I’ll need a list...”

“A list?”

Crocker scratched his head, thoughtfully.  “Think there’s an echo in here, Ben.  Yeah, I need a list, so I can file a report and press charges when I catch the thief.  You sort that out, I’ll start making enquiries, check the security cameras.  Don’t worry, we’ll have them by morning!”

Ben stared at him in horror.  “But that’ll take forever!  It’ll take all night just to count those two little piles over there!”

Crocker shrugged.  “I can’t arrest someone for emptying boxes onto your floor, Ben.  You’ll have to prove there was a crime!”

“Well of course there’s been a crime!  Why else would this place look such a mess?!”

Crocker looked around disdainfully.  “Doesn’t look that much different from usual to me, Ben!” he commented.  “I’ll go check those tapes.  You just get started on that list.” With that, he walked out.  Fortunately Krieg was too distraught to notice the way that the older man’s shoulders were shaking with barely controlled laughter as he left the room.

With a heavy sigh, he walked across to his desk, pulled out his record book, and began the long and tedious task of making an inventory.

Grinning from ear to ear, Lucas silently shuffled backwards, leaving him to it.

 

\-----

 

“You should’ve seen his face!”

Phillips had been with Crocker when Krieg had come flying down the corridor towards them to report the alleged robbery, and once he had controlled his urge to laugh he had followed them, to find Krieg on his knees, laboriously counting out the first of the heaps.  Phillips had stayed until the supply officer had asked for help, when he suddenly remembered a pressing engagement.

“He’s still in there counting now,” O’Neill reported, coming into the room.  “Said he wouldn’t be with us tonight!”

The last was met with increased laughter.

“At least we won’t have to worry about him trying to cheat!” Ortiz commented.

“No, all we have to watch out for is you!” O’Neill retorted with feeling.

“I don’t cheat!”

“Is that why three aces fell out of your sleeve last time we played?” Phillips asked.

“They must have stuck to my arm.  And it was only two.”

“Oh yeah, the other one was a king, wasn’t it?  I forgot.” 

O’Neill sat down at the table and picked up the pack of cards.  “Maybe I should count these?!”

“Maybe you should take them down to Ben, and see if he wants to count them?!” Lucas put in, causing another burst of laughter.

The door opened, and they all immediately stopped, wondering guiltily if it was Krieg coming for revenge.  But the supply officer was still sitting on the floor of his cabin counting out two thousand and eighty-one size A-7 bolts.  After that he would be counting the nine hundred and twenty-four size A-5 bolts.  And after that, there were the size A-3’s, the size A-2’s, the A-1’s, the B-12’s, and so on.  They were unlikely to see Ben for a very long time.

It was Katherine Hitchcock who entered the room.  She looked around disconcertedly as they all began to laugh again.

“What’s so funny?” she went over to the table and pulled out an empty chair beside Lucas.  “And where’s Ben?”

They all looked at one another, unable to completely stop grinning.  It was Lucas, the least wary of them, who answered her.

“Ben’s...busy!  He’s brushing up on his basic arithmetic skills!”

Katie frowned around the table as they all began to laugh again, her gaze finally falling on O’Neill, whom she had not expected to see there.

“What’s going on, Tim?”

Feeling that it was very unfair that she had picked on him, O’Neill looked to Ortiz for support.  The Cuban shrugged, and answered her himself.

“First you have to swear you’re not going to run along and tell Ben what we’ve done.”

A faint flush coloured Hitchcock’s porcelain features.  “Why should I do that?” she asked stiffly.  Out of her line of vision, Phillips winced at Ortiz.

The sonar operator was unabashed.  “Don’t want to risk a good joke!  Now,” he leant forwards and picked up the pack of cards from the centre of the table.  “Are you in?”

“Just tell me!”

Between them, they told her.

 

\-----

 

Commander Ford watched as the airlock door opened.  Beside him was Doctor Westphalen, her expression grim and unforgiving.  She did not like specialists interfering in her domain even when they were specialists in a field she was competent in.  When they officially knew more than she did on a subject, they were not welcome.  And that was without the little problem of their unreported alien encounter.

“Remember,” she hissed as the scientists came into view.  “Only the four of them saw the inside of the ship.  The rest of us saw nothing.”

“I know that, Doctor,” Ford told her patiently, trying not to show his annoyance at the number of times she had tried to brief him on what not to say.  “Save it for the rest of the crew.”

Westphalen looked even more worried at that.  “Someone’s going to let something slip, I know it.  They could strip Nathan of command again for something like this, and not let him have it back this time.  You too,” she added quickly, and he wondered if she thought he might let their secret slip just so he could take the ship for himself.

“Why do you think he wants me to shadow them like a hawk?” Ford muttered back.  “Don’t worry about me, worry about the others.”

She nodded, looking even more worried.  “I know.  Tim thinks the aliens’ very existence is a religious affront.  Ben thinks Christmas has come early, and I swear I’m going to strangle him if he doesn’t stop bouncing around so enthusiastically!  And the chief just can’t come to terms with it!  These people are going to question the three of them in depth!  We don’t stand a chance of keeping it quiet!”

Ford stepped forward as the scientists came onto the ship.  There were three of them, two men and a woman.  The taller of the two men was walking slightly in front of the others, and Ford spoke to him first.

“Doctor Joseph?”

The man shook his head, but took Ford’s proffered hand.  “I’m Doctor McCall.”

The tall, red-haired woman behind him pushed past, and shoved her case into Ford’s arms.  The executive officer stared at it, and then at her.

”I’m Doctor Joseph,” she snapped.  “I suppose you heard my first name was Alex and instantly assumed I was a man?!  Typical, we get foisted off with a chauvinistic junior officer.  Where’s Captain Bridger?”

 Ford glanced back at Westphalen, who raised a vaguely amused eyebrow and stepped up to join him.  He turned back to the offensive woman.

“Captain Bridger has asked me to assist you during your stay here,” he told her with forced politeness.  “I’m Commander Jonathan Ford, and for the next few days my normal duties have been put on hold in order to ascertain that you get access to everyone and everything that you need to.”

The woman sniffed, unimpressed.  “Can’t have all that important duties normally, then, can you?”  She looked at Westphalen, up and down, ignoring the bristling Ford, and sniffed again.  “I suppose you’re the fish doctor?”

Westphalen pursed her lips thoughtfully, then studied the floor for a few seconds.  Ford could almost hear her counting to ten before replying with remarkable restraint:

“I’m a medical doctor, and head scientist on board this ship.”  She stuck out a hand, and introduced herself.  When Joseph did not take it, the far more polite McCall did so.

Seeing that Kristen was now as angry as he himself was, and less likely to hold it in check, Ford quickly offered to show the newcomers to their quarters, and was relieved when they accepted.  Once the three of them were safely installed in their cabins, he and Westphalen breathed a mutual sigh of relief.

“I’m going to kill that woman,” Westphalen stated, leaning back against the wall as they waited for the MAG-LEV.

“Get to the end of the queue!  I don’t think I can take three days of baby-sitting them!”

“I have to work with her!  Did you hear what she called me?!  Fish doctor!  I’m a marine biologist!  Fish doctor!” Kristen snorted disgustedly.  “It’ll be a long three days!”

Behind them, Joseph’s cabin door opened, and the penetrating voice resounded at them: “Hey, you!”

Ford looked around, not used to being spoken to in such a manner: “Me?”

“Whoever.  This mattress is lumpy.  And the towels smell of seawater!”

It was Ford’s turn to count to ten.  “I’ll get them changed for you,” he managed to say calmly.  Fortunately the MAG-LEV chose that moment to arrive, and he stepped into it gratefully.

Westphalen smiled at him sympathetically, and patted his shoulder.

“A long, long three days.”

 

\-----

 

“Ben... Ben...”

It was a familiar voice calling his name.  Somewhere through the haze of sleep that had fallen over him, Krieg could hear it.  Nagging and insistent, when all he wanted to do was stay asleep.  He kept his head down and did not respond.

“Ben...”

Hitchcock shook him by the shoulder, and eventually the supply officer rolled over wearily and sat up.  Blinking, he looked around, saw the numerous piles still littering the floor of his cabin, and groaned.

“Wassamadder?  Couldn’t you leave me to die in peace?”

She crouched beside him, looking at him in concern.  “Do you know what time it is?”

“No.  I was asleep!  Of course I don’t know what time it is!”

Katie ignored his sarcastic tone, and continued: “It’s very late.  You’re on duty in four hours.  I think you should leave this and get to bed.”

She saw a particular expression come over his face, and quickly held up a warning finger before he put that expression into words.  So instead he picked up the latest half-counted pile and started again. “I have to get this done.  Someone broke in here and stole from me.”

Katie watched him laboriously counting the tiny rivets.  She looked around at the hundreds of other little heaps around the room.  Bridger did not know about this yet, but he would do if Ben used it as an excuse not to work the following day.  And then the people responsible would be in trouble.  Feeling that the joke had gone far enough, she stopped it.

“What exactly has been stolen, Ben?”

”That’s what I’m trying to find out!”

“And what have you found so far?”

He stopped counting, one of the little rivets still poised between his fingers.  “Well...nothing yet,” his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “Why?”

Katie gestured towards the numerous neat little piles.  “It’s a very tidy burglary, Ben.  Doesn’t that, and the fact that nothing seems to have been taken strike you as a little suspicious?”

Krieg looked around.  Suddenly the little piles did look too neat, the unforced door a little too suspicious, the lack of evidence...

“It was Crocker, wasn’t it?!  No... no, I know, it was Tim!  He was sulking about that little joke, then all of a sudden he’s all smiling again, coming in here saying he wants to join the game and isn’t it a mess in here, and oh, aren’t you coming to the game then, Ben?!  I’ll kill him!”

Hitchcock winced, not expecting him to have worked out who was responsible.  No-one was going to trust her with anything after this.

“It could have been anyone, Ben.  You upset a lot of people with your questions.  I did warn you.”

“It was Tim,” Ben repeated, only half-listening.  “Just wait till I get my hands on him.”

Katie sighed, recognising the signs.  “No, Ben.  It was a very large group of people.  You can’t ‘get’ them all.  If I were you, I’d just clear up in here and forget it.”

”Ortiz and Phillips, I bet.  And it was Crocker.  And Lucas, he probably showed them how to get in through the air vent.  And I wouldn’t be surprised if Commander Ford...”

“Ben, get a grip!  Forget it already!  You can’t chase down the whole ship.  Now look, if I hadn’t come in here and told you, you’d be counting this lot for days, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess.”

”Well if you try to get revenge, I won’t help you next time.  Won’t be able to, no-one’ll let me in on the joke.  So you don’t know, okay?  Nothing’s missing, someone’s played a joke, you can’t be bothered to check any further.  Okay?”

He scowled: “I still want revenge.”

“Okay?” she repeated more firmly.

“Okay.”  He reached down and started to scoop the nearest pile back into its box.  “See?  Happy?”

“And no revenge?”

“I guess not.  Say,” his mind instantly slid to other things, hoping to distract her, not convinced himself that he would not pursue the matter.  “How’d the game go?”

Katie patted her pocket, smiling smugly.  “Pretty good.  Must’ve been my lucky night!”

“Yeah?” he could not help it, he began to grin suggestively at her again.

“Yeah.”  She stood up.  “’Night, Ben.  Don’t forget you’re on duty in four hours.”

“’Night.”

Disappointed, but not at all surprised, Krieg watched her go.  As the door closed behind her, he looked around at the mess.

“Might be your lucky night, Katie, but it sure ain’t mine!” he muttered, beginning to scoop up the tiny parts before they all became muddled together.

It did not take too long to clear up that way, and soon his cabin was restored to its normal organised mess.  By then, it was hardly worth going to sleep, but Krieg took a quick shower and lay down on his bunk.  He had taken out the small alien artefact, relieved that it had not been amongst the items interfered with.

Krieg lay on his back, holding the object between thumb and forefinger, hypnotised by the relaxing pulsing of the glow.  Lucas, he knew, would kill for something like this.  Ford would probably just kill him for taking it.  It was rare, unique even now that the ship was destroyed, worth more money than anything he had ever come across before, and then some.  He could sell it for a small fortune in the right places, never have to worry about money again.

It glowed fiercely as he thought that, and he was reminded of the way Katie’s face had looked reflected in that glow earlier in the day.

He would not sell it.  Could not sell it.  Did not want to.

The artefact glowed warmly, and he recalled the sweet, familiar taste of her lips on his, the way she had yielded the first time...

A shadow fell across the bunk, a figure blocking his light.  Krieg looked around, startled, not having heard anyone come in, slipping the little alien globe quickly onto the bedside table.

“Katie?”

She did not say anything, standing beside his bunk like a little ghost in the shadows.  She had changed, no longer wearing her uniform, she had slipped into the tiny black garment he had bought her years before.  Sheer silk, it emphasised every curve, whilst covering very little.  Krieg had believed she burnt it after they split up.  Katie had always hated the thing, and it was what she had done with most of what he had given her.  Still, that was the furthest thing from his mind at that point.  The question of why she was there, in his cabin, dressed - or rather not dressed - like that left the list of reasons he could think of very short indeed.  He sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk and tried to regard her with caution.  It was difficult, despite their divorce he always had been and always would be very strongly attracted to her.

“What’s going on, honey?  You okay?”

She smiled at him, beautifully, dazzlingly, and deep inside him some nagging little voice said that this was not quite right.  But she reached out to slide her arms around him, and draw him close, and he stopped listening as his mouth found hers in a deeper and more loving kiss than he could ever remember from her, with the promise of more to come.

Forgotten, the alien sphere glowed warmly to itself.

 

\-----

 

“Chief!”

Miguel Ortiz grinned broadly at the ensign who was one of his relief staff, and who was also one of the very few people on the ship who treated him with a little respect.  He liked Ensign Palmer, the man was still new enough to be respectful but was starting to show a wry sense of humour.  None of that humour was shown on his young face that morning, however.

“Hi, Dean.  Any problems?” The sensor chief swung easily into the recently-vacated seat at his station, running a quick check almost as an automatic reaction.

The junior crewmember leant over Ortiz’s shoulder and showed him a brief report.  “Only this.  It started a few hours ago, with some strange readings on the sensors that didn’t make any sense.  The WSKRs didn’t pick anything up at all, it’s not affecting them it’s just the sensors on the seaQuest herself, and only slightly.  Jordan took a look at it, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, it’s just picking something up.”  The ensign paused, then added quietly: “You don’t think it’s got anything to do with the aliens?  I mean, do you think they’re coming back?”

Miguel smiled, amused by the awe in the youngster’s voice.  Only a few people were aware of the signal that had been sent, and Ensign Palmer was not one of them.  Second Engineer Jordan knew, however, and the sensor chief could not help wondering if the man had hinted at something.

”Who can tell?  Leave this with me, Dean, don’t worry about it, it’s probably nothing.  One of Lucas’s latest little experiments with Darwin’s translator, probably.  The last one screwed up Tim’s station for weeks!”

Looking a little happier, Palmer left the Bridge.  But once the Ensign had gone, Miguel ran a full check on all systems.  Although there was no obvious cause, and everything was still working, there was definitely something on the internal sensors, as if they were picking up some sort of interference.  Seeing O’Neill had already settled at his own station, the sensor chief quickly jumped up and scooted over to him.  The communications officer looked around, surprised, then grinned.

“Hi, Mig.  Hey, Ben’s not come on duty yet.  Do you think maybe we should call him before he gets us into trouble?”

“Yeah, never mind that now.  Run a check over your station, see if everything’s working okay.”

Frowning, Tim did so.  “What’s up?” he asked, as he ran the check.  “Problem?”

“Maybe.  You don’t know if they’ve got any experiments going on in the Science Labs that might be affecting just the internal sensors, do you?”

Tim shrugged: “I’m the last person who’d know.”  He glanced at the centre of the Bridge, where Hitchcock was settling herself at her position, very slightly late, and looking rather tired.  Even as he watched, she stretched languidly, and stifled a yawn.

“You’ll go blind!” Miguel whispered in his ear, following his gaze.  Tim just waggled his glasses at him, and they both laughed.  The sound made the chief engineer look up at them, and Miguel quickly covered it by voicing Tim’s original intention, which was to call her over.

“Commander, could you take a look at this?”

Katie was about to comply, when she glanced down and noticed something amiss at her own station.  It distracted her, and Ortiz could see that she was starting to run tests.  Instead of having her join them, he was forced to run down to her station.

“Problem, Commander?”

Hitchcock did not look up, but continued tapping instructions into her console, and frowned deeply at the feedback she was getting.  “I think there’s some sort of bug in the ship’s computer.  I’m getting odd readings from certain sections of the ship...Medbay, right here on the Bridge, the MAG-LEV...” her frown deepened: “Even the living quarters!  And it doesn’t remain constant.  One moment it’s in life-support, the next it’s in the lighting, the next it’s in...well, I don’t know where it’s gone now.”  She sighed, sat back in her chair, and looked around at him.  “What did you want me to take a look at?  Similar problems on your station?”

Ortiz nodded.  “Glitch on the internal sensors.  It does look like a bug in the system, you’re right.  If it’s in the MAG-LEV, maybe we should close it down?”

”We can’t risk any accidents, so we’ll have to.  Oh, Jonathan is going to love this.  He’s having enough trouble with those idiots from the space program as it is!  If they have to start walking across the ship, he’ll never survive the trip!”

“I heard they were bad!”

“He was telling me over breakfast about the one in charge.  She’s treating him like her personal lackey!  And he doesn’t want to antagonise her in case she gets wind of what’s gone down here.”

“Commander Ford being ordered about...” Ortiz could not help it, the idea appealed to him and a slow grin spread itself across his face.  Hitchcock shook her head, smiling herself.

”I wouldn’t let him see you looking so pleased about it,” she warned, then stifled another yawn.  “Oh, I’m so tired!  I don’t think I can face tearing the innards of the MAG-LEV apart this morning!  How do you guys get by on so little sleep?”

“Coffee.  Strong and black.  And we play regularly, we’ve built up a resistance!”

“Really?  Well, Mister Resistance, you just take your coffee down to Engineering and have a team look at the MAG-LEV for me.  Just tell them to give it a full safety check.  If you hurry, you’ll catch the last shuttle before I close it down.  Otherwise it’s one hell of a walk!” she beamed at him sweetly, looking more awake almost immediately.  “And ask Third Engineer Hamilton to make her way up here, I want her to take a look at this with me before I go to the captain with it.  Get a relief on your station.”

Reluctantly, Ortiz obeyed.  He wondered if he could make a quick detour past Supply, before their little joke backfired on them all.

 

\-----

 

The slamming of O'Neill's door as the comtech went on duty had disturbed Krieg but not actually woken him.  It was two junior officers coming off duty rather noisily about ten minutes later who managed to do that.

Still tired, he rubbed a weary hand across his eyes, not bothering to check the time, believing Katie would have woken him if there was any risk of their being late.

Katie.

He opened his eyes, suddenly aware that she was gone.  The cabin was empty, and he felt a surge of disappointment, wishing that she could have waited until he awoke.  He could understand her wish to slip away whilst it was quiet, so that no-one would see, but he did not have to like it.  Still, it gave him a chance to think, a breathing space to decide what to do next.

There was nothing to think about.  This was a second chance for them, and he had no intention of blowing it.  A smile played about his features as he thought about the previous night.  There was no way that he would give her up again.  This time it would be different, this time he would be the perfect partner, the perfect officer too. 

Intending to put his resolution into practise immediately, Krieg rolled over to look at his alarm clock, knowing that an early arrival on duty would impress her...

The resultant scramble would have impressed anyone...

 

\-----

 

To Ortiz's great relief, his detour to Supply was not needed.  As he left the Bridge, he passed Krieg, even later for duty than usual.  The supply officer did not race onto the Bridge as he normally did, but sauntered on with a very self-satisfied expression on his face.

“Found your burglar, Ben?” Ortiz ventured, the smug expression on Krieg’s face making him very wary.

Krieg shook his head, still looking smug.  “Nah.  Didn’t seem to have taken anything, I think someone was playing a joke on me, so I just cleared up and forgot about it.”

Ortiz watched the man pass.  Krieg seemed to be in a worryingly good mood for a man who had been the victim of a joke which from the look of the dark circles under his eyes had obviously kept him up all night.  He also seemed remarkably laid back about it all, sauntering straight over to Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock’s station with a broad grin splattered across his features.

Miguel did not waste any more time on the matter, knowing from past experience that if Krieg had worked out who was responsible for the prank, he would get his revenge.  Instead, the sonar operator headed quickly for the MAG-LEV shuttle that the captain was disembarking from just in front of him, aware it would be a very long walk otherwise. 

Back on the Bridge, Hitchcock was still concerned over the computer virus.  Whilst it did not yet appear serious enough to be dangerous, she was not happy operating the MAG-LEV whilst the cause was unknown.  If the programming was to unravel, and two shuttles smash into one another, there would be no hope for any occupants.  She was convinced that the virus was a result of Lucas’s constant interference with the computer, it was an inevitable result that might take days to put right.

“I’ll strangle that kid!” she muttered to herself, spinning in her chair to check on the status of the hyper-reality probe, then jumped as she found Krieg leaning over the control panel, grinning wolfishly at her.  Recovering, she pushed him out of the way, and quickly began to test the probe, not wanting to risk trying it out just then.

“What?” she asked irritably, not liking having him watch her like that.  “Don’t you have any work to do?”

“Just wanted to say good morning!  You ran off before I woke up.”

“I...” Katie gaped at him, finally distracted from her work, but he was looking past her now, straightening, and she followed his gaze in a state of total confusion.  The captain had come onto the Bridge and was heading straight for her.  When she turned back, Ben had already made it back to his seat in front of EVA control.  Katie decided that her ex-husband was either trying some sort of joke at her expense, or that he had completely flipped.  Neither option would have surprised her.  Choosing to ignore him, she sat up straight as the captain approached.

There was a definite air of concern about Bridger that morning, and Hitchcock sensed it at once.  She guessed it was to do with their visitors, but even so she did not enjoy adding to his problems by telling him about the anomalies that were showing up in the seaQuest’s systems.  His face darkened noticeably when she mentioned that she intended shutting down the MAG-LEV.

“I suppose you’ll have to.  But our guests won’t like it.”

“It’s just to be on the safe side.  Until we know what’s wrong.”

“Okay,” rubbing a hand over his lined faced wearily, as if the strain of the whole situation was too much for him, he looked around the Bridge at his busy crew.  Katie watched his gaze go from Tim to Ben, then scan slowly around the room to fall on Chief Crocker as he entered through the clam-shaped doors.  “Do it as quickly as you can.  Try not to make our guests aware that anything’s wrong, else you’ll have them up here checking for alien influences!”

“And how do we know that it’s not?” Hitchcock asked him.  “After what happened here...”

”We don’t know.  We have to keep an open mind.  But we certainly don’t want them thinking that it is, because they’ll tear the ship apart trying to find out why.  And then we won’t stand the slightest chance of keeping this quiet.”

“So you’re saying I should look for alien influences?”

“Just look.  Find out what’s wrong, and put it right.  Don’t rule out any possibility, but don’t specifically go alien-hunting, Commander, it’s far more likely to be the computer error that you originally thought of.  Call Lucas, get him to take a look at it too.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.  Now, I need to take O’Neill, Crocker and Krieg away from you for an hour or so.  Kristen and I want to brief them before they speak to these specialists.”

“No problem, Sir.  But,” she gestured towards his chair, where the intercom was flashing for attention.  “I think someone’s trying to reach you.”

Bridger muttered something under his breath, but strode across to answer it.  He was back a moment later, looking even less pleased.  “Change of plan.  They want to start the questions at once.  Ben’s first, you’d better send the other two down to the Ward Room as soon as you’ve got cover.  And shut down the MAG-LEV now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bridger turned away from her.  He looked grim.  Glancing up to the E.V.A. control, he called to Krieg to follow him and stalked off the Bridge.

Krieg looked around, and she could see from his face that he assumed he was in some sort of trouble.  Amused by that, she turned back to the problem in hand.

“Lieutenant!” came the irritated cry of the captain when Ben dawdled, trying to prolong the outcome of the private meeting he had been summoned to, and the supply officer scuttled out.

 

\-----

 

Sometimes, Lucas reflected, it was good being a teenager on the seaQuest.  Even though he was paid a salary these days, he still had no specific duties and could come and go as he pleased.  But then, at other times he could be pushed out of the way, and left out of something interesting.

Now was one of those times.  Doctor Westphalen had given him a long lecture on being very careful what he said to the intrusive scientists from the Alien Encounter Program, and then had bundled him out of the Science section before they arrived.  Lucas was not particularly interested in the new doctors, but being told to keep away naturally made him curious, and instead of shutting himself in his quarters with an interactive game as he usually did, he was wandering the ship, bored, trying to find an excuse to get back into the Science section.

Nobody seemed to be about.  He passed a few people coming off duty, but for once the ship’s corridors were fairly deserted.  True, the full staff complement was not on board yet, following the evacuation after the discovery of the spaceship, but most had returned.  His boredom increasing, Lucas made his way down into the crew quarters, wondering whether Krieg had worked out what they had done yet.

To his disappointment, when he stood on tiptoe and pressed his nose against the little window in the door of the supply officer’s cabin, not only was Ben nowhere in sight, but all the carefully emptied little packages were back in their rightful place, the room was in no more mess than usual.  He tried the door, but it was securely locked, as ever.

Knowing full well that there was no way Krieg could have counted that amount in so short a time, Lucas knew that side of their game was over.  Still, there was more than one way to skin a cat, or to wind up a supply officer, and Lucas was far from short of ideas, especially now he had an excuse to indulge the side of him that was still very much a child.

Scooting along the access corridor, heading for his own cabin on the lower deck, he did not bother telling the others what he was up to.

They would find out soon enough.

 

\-----

 

“Aw, the MAG-LEV’s not working!”

Bridger turned to look at the tall supply officer tiredly as the younger man stared in dismay whilst the MAG-LEV spluttered into darkness in front of him.

“That’s right, Lieutenant.  We’re walking to the Science Bays.”

It registered with Krieg that he was not in trouble after all, and he brightened momentarily.  Then he realised what Bridger had said.  “Walking?!  To the Science section?!  That’s nearly the other end of the ship!”

“Do you good.  Come on, I want a word with you.”  He began to walk off down the corridor.

The apprehensive look returned to Krieg’s face, but he reluctantly traipsed after the captain.

“Is this about the new doctors?”

“Yes.  They want to talk to you about your visit to the ship.”

“The alien ship?” Krieg asked stupidly, wondering if there was any way that his little souvenir of the trip had been discovered.

Bridger sighed, growing less happy by the moment.  “Yes, of course the alien ship.  Don’t let me down here, Ben.  I’ve told them you’re up first on this because just for once I’m hoping you’ll break form and be the most reliable!  And don’t you ever tell the chief I said that!”

Krieg could not help it, the unexpected praise left him grinning from ear to ear.  “No Sir!  And I won’t let you down.  I won’t breathe a word about that signal or the aliens.”

“Even though you know the risks involved in lying about it?”

Krieg shrugged.  “It’s my bag, Sir.  Katie told you that, it’s why you put me on the mission in the first place.  Just the chance of being here if they come back, the very slightest chance...it’s worth a little risk.  Anyway, if I don’t actually lie, they can’t touch me!”

“Oh no, don’t try to be clever, Lieutenant.  Just try not to mention it at all.”

“That’s what I meant!  Katie gave me a lecture on it yesterday.  Trust me!”

“I do, that’s what worries me!  My judgement must be slipping!”

“Thanks.  I think.”

“Hmmm,” Bridger pursed his lips, his mind moving on to the interview itself now, trying to second-guess what the acerbic Doctor Joseph would ask his men.  Krieg, he knew, was unlikely to impress her.  Probably the mild-mannered, gentle, pleasant communications officer would go down best personality-wise.  But Krieg was more level-headed about this particular situation, and he was the senior officer.  One thing was certain though:

“You’d better refer to the commander by her title, Ben.  And Doctor Joseph’s a feminist.  Be careful what you say to her.  Jonathan managed to antagonise her in moments!”

Krieg shrugged: “I don’t stand much of a chance, then, do I?” Bridger frowned at him, and he added quickly: “I’ll try, Sir.  But about Katie...”  He paused, as the captain turned to look at him sharply, then amended it to: “About Commander Hitchcock, Sir.  Can I ask you something?”

The captain, Krieg noted, looked a little wary.  But it was something he really wanted to know, needed to know in the cold light of day, so he pressed on.

“We were married, you know?”

“Oh yes, I know.”  Very, very wary.

”You’ll have seen her records.  See, what I want to know is, did being married to me hold her back?  Would she be a full commander, or even a captain now if she’d married someone like Commander Ford, or just stayed single?”

 “How should I know?!  And even if I did glean something from her records, it’s got nothing to do with you, Lieutenant.  She’s your senior officer!  And it’s all irrelevant now, isn’t it?”

Bridger seemed to be waiting for an answer to that last question, Krieg thought.  Somehow he doubted that the captain would be overjoyed at his reasons.  But then, if he was being gifted with this unexpected second chance with his ex-wife, their commanding officer’s happiness was relatively unimportant.  What mattered was smoothing out the last remaining problems.

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  Katie’s career’s pretty important to her.  It got in the way before.”

“Before?!”

“When we were married.”

“I know when you’re talking about!  I don’t like this ‘before’.  It suggests an ‘after’.”

“Maybe.  We were really young the first time, we messed it up.  Now we're both a bit more mature I reckon it could work.”

Bridger could not quite believe his ears.  He was not sure that he wanted to.  “Are you trying to tell me you’ve matured?!”  He shook his head, not wanting to think about the implications.  “I don’t think I ever want to know what you’ve matured from!  And in answer to your question, I’ll just say this.  Generally, no, I don’t think you held Katie back at all by marrying her.  But those two months on the Coleridge, before you were both transferred to separate ships, that damaged both your careers.  Think on that, Lieutenant, because if it happens here, on seaQuest, I’ll have the pair of you demoted on the spot!  Understood?!”

“Yes, Sir.  And it won’t, I promise.  Thank you, Sir,” Krieg turned, as if he was about to head back to the Bridge, but the Captain stopped him.

“Er, Lieutenant...” he jabbed his finger towards the corridor ahead.

Krieg collected himself, slightly flustered.  “Oh, right, the doctors.  Yes.”  He resumed his original course.

Shaking his head, Bridger followed.

Please let me be a million miles away when Jonathan finds out about this...

 

\-----

 

It never occurred to Lucas that perhaps he should tell someone what he was doing.  Even if it had, he would not have done so, he was a typical teenager in that at least.  To be fair, he never thought for one moment that any harm could come to him on the seaQuest.  He was the youngest person on the ship and that position left him over-protected if anything.  Even now, slipping into the supply officer’s quarters to sabotage his favourite porn tapes, the worst that he thought could happen was for Krieg to return early and catch him.  It would spoil a good joke, and no doubt Krieg would find some way to get him back for it, but he knew it would be punishment in kind, another prank in return.  It broke the monotony, kept them all on their toes.  Harmless.

Pushing the air vent cover aside, Lucas climbed out of the shaft and stood up.  The room was in darkness, as all their quarters always were when unoccupied, lit only by the light of the corridor outside the door.  It was enough for the teenager, and he stepped carefully across the junk covering the floor to reach the closet.

Ben’s room, Lucas decided, was even more of a mess than usual.  He had to clear a heap of crumpled clothes from the floor to get the closet door open, only to have a pile of books fall on him as he did so.  Picking one up and peering at the cover in the dim light, he saw it was an old Arthur C Clarke novel and tossed it aside, never having been that enamoured of printed books, too impressed with computers and interactives.  The interactive version of Rendezvous With Rama had been a glorious sight to behold, and Lucas could never quite come to terms with the idea of the interactive-addicted Krieg also having such an enthusiasm for the printed word.  The alien encounter had led to all the old books coming out again.  But when Lucas reached down into the cowboy boots Krieg thought he looked so good in, he found that his collection had been removed and replaced by a single tape.  Pulling it out, Lucas found a piece of paper tied around it.  Turning it towards the light, he read:

“Bambi.  You’ll never find what you’re looking for.  Get out of my room, Lucas.”

“Oh yeah?!”  Lucas dropped the interactive back into the boots and grinned.  He loved a challenge, and although he doubted that the supply officer would have managed to provide much of one, the thought was appreciated.  He immediately turned to the sock drawer.  “Too obvious, Ben.  Way, way too obvious.”

Sliding the drawer open, he was grateful to find that Krieg seemed to have actually washed the things recently.  It was almost bearable to put his hands amongst them and search for the interactives he was after.  They were not there, and Lucas nodded appreciatively.  “Okay, so you’re smarter than we all think!”  He looked around, then headed straight for the compartments over Krieg’s bed.  The first was full of illegal bottles of beer, several half-empty packets of chews, a corkscrew, and two bottles of wine.  The second was stuffed with letters, filled notepads, photos, and other such things that looked too private even for Lucas to stick his nose into.  That would have been going against the rules of the game.  He closed the compartment, and went for the third.

It was fairly smart, considering it was only Ben Krieg that he was up against, Lucas decided.  He pushed aside the boxes of computer chips that were at the front of the compartment, and was faced with the false back Krieg had created in there.  It only took a moment to slide it out, before Lucas was faced with the entirety of Lieutenant Krieg’s private collection.  He pulled two tapes out, quickly scribbled “4 out of 10 - Must do better!” on a scrap of paper he put in their stead, and replaced both the false back and the computer chips before closing up the compartment.

Pocketing the tapes, Lucas was about to leave when his gaze fell on the odd object lying on the bedside table.  Spherical, pale, and glowing faintly, it drew his attention and he could not help but pick it up.

“Ow!”

Immediately, Lucas dropped the sphere, the object having scorched his hand where it touched the skin.  It fell dead on the deck, no rebound in it at all.  Puzzled, Lucas bent down and poked at it, curious as to where the heat was coming from.  Seeing that it was soft to the touch where his pen made contact with it, he dragged the cover off Ben’s bed and pulled his penknife out of his pocket.  Holding the globe still with the cover, he went to slice a sliver off.

It was as if the small sphere suddenly exploded in his face.  One moment he was holding the knife poised to cut, the next there was a flash of light and he was thrown across the room, his body slammed against the wall, clattering on the grille he had left there.  There was no time to lick his wounds, however much the impact hurt.  In the centre of the room, rising up from the floor, something was taking shape that defied logic.  It was large, and growing larger.  Lucas did not wait for the monstrous shape to form a face, diving away from the shadowy creature through the only exit he could reach - the ventilation shaft he had come through in the first place.

Lucas scrambled into the shaft, briefly considering pulling the grille after him then realising it would be pointless.  If the creature wanted to come after him that would not stop something which seemed to form from the air.  The pain in his side made him wonder if he had broken something when he was thrown across the room, but there was no time to concern himself with that.  Instead, he clambered down the shaft, bent over, trying not to bash his bruised back against the sides.  He risked a look back as he turned a corner, and the sight made his heart sink.  The shadowy form was following him.

Smashing his arms and knees against the metal walls in his desperation to get away, Lucas scrabbled down the shaft as fast as he could.  The thing was after him, he could feel the heat from it on his legs.  Not daring to look back again, he knew he could never escape it.  His heart was pounding against his chest, and he was panting hard, scared stiff.  Still, he got a considerable distance before he ran out of road.

Even in his terror, Lucas had known where he was going.  Straight back to his quarters, out of the open shaft, and to Crocker and his team as fast as his legs would carry him.  It was not that far, he had traversed the shaft many, many times in the past and knew it backwards.  So it was a shock to turn a corner and almost slam into the solid metal wall blocking his path.

There was no time to panic, or even to attempt an escape.  He turned, and the creature was on him, smothering him, scorching hot and suffocating so that he felt he could not breathe.

And then, just as suddenly, it was gone, the darkness he was left in was natural. Lucas lay for a moment, quite, quite still.  He was burned where the creature had touched him, and his badly bruised back hurt him whilst he lay on it.  But when he tried to sit up, he found himself pinned to the floor of the shaft, immobilised by what seemed to be the solid metal sides of the shaft itself.  He struggled, briefly, but could not get free.  Yelling for help automatically crossed his mind, and he opened his mouth.

But what if it comes back?

Lucas closed his mouth, and struggled silently.  He had to admit it, he was well and truly stuck.  The metal seemed to have contracted and wrapped itself around him.  He could not see the lower half of his body at all, not that he could see much in the shadowy shaft anyway.  It was as if an entire section of the tunnel had melted and congealed around his torso.  His legs were still free, he could kick them fruitlessly.  But his arms and chest were pinned firmly, there was no shifting even the slightest distance.

Praying that the creature, whatever it was, would not return, he yelled for help.  After a few moments, he stopped and listened.  The faint echoes of his own voice came back at him, mockingly, in the tiny space.  No welcome voice was calling out that help was coming and that it would be all right.

Lucas began to consider exactly where he was.  He had raced down the shaft away from Krieg’s quarters, which were two decks above his own.  He had not quite reached the point where he would jump down onto the next level, but he knew it could not have been far off.  He tried to think about the layout of the ship, mentally tracing a map with his mind.  This section of the shaft would take him to the end of the crew quarters, then down... no, it would go out to the maintenance tunnel beyond, and then down.  But with the newly-evolved sheet of metal wall that had stopped his flight, it was unlikely anyone would hear him even if they were in the passage.  Then there was the air.  Behind his head it was completely blocked off, certainly.  In the other direction he could see tiny chinks of light through the metal which had trapped him, indicating that he was not totally sealed in.  There would be a little air, but only a little, and it was going to get very warm in that small enclosed space very quickly.  Lucas tried to push back his panic at the sudden realisation that there was a good chance that no-one would hear his cries, nor find him in time.  He threw back his head, and shouted louder, aware that his voice would barely be penetrating the melted metal that had trapped him.  It meant that anyone in their quarters would also be unlikely to hear him.

Lucas kicked his feet hard against the sides of the shaft.  Somebody had to hear him.  They would notice that he was missing and come looking.  Krieg would come off-duty and see the signs of what had happened.

 And he’ll be attacked too.

Lucas was silent again, thinking, listening for any signs of life, signs of someone who might save him.

It was that little sphere.  In Ben’s room, it came from that.  Had to be off the alien ship.  Or maybe our visitor left it...nah, this is Ben we’re talking about.  Probably thought he could sell it for a fortune, pulled it out of the dead alien’s hands... Like robbing Tutankhamun’s tomb, the curse is starting!

Despite his predicament, the thought appealed to Lucas, and he grinned.  But his back hurt, the burns on his skin stung, and the grin soon faded.

What if it’s what the aliens really look like, if it sneaked back with them and now it’s hungry?  What if they’re like spiders, they trap their prey and preserve it until they want to eat it?  What if it comes back for me...?

He lay still, listening.  But he knew that he would not hear it come.  It had not made a sound.  The first he would know would be when it was on him, biting him, tearing at his flesh.

Lucas shuddered, and began to call out anew.

 

\-----

 

Kristen Westphalen and Jonathan Ford stared at one another morosely from opposite ends of the long table that had been set up in the newly-designated interview room just off the Science Labs.  Doctors McCall and Cioffi were seated midway down the table, quietly reading through their notes and occasionally adding more to them.  They were interested only in their subject, and in doing their job.  Doctor Joseph, on the other hand, was pacing furiously up and down the room, her scowl deepening with each lap.  Her interest, Ford was convinced, was in making his life as difficult as she possibly could.  And in the past few hours she had certainly succeeded.

The morning was supposed to begin with a tour of the ship.  Doctor Joseph had not been interested in the ship, and told him so.  The tour was cancelled.  McCall and Cioffi had gone down to the Mess for breakfast.  Joseph had demanded it in her room, much to the disgust of the ship’s cook whom she had ordered to deliver it to her.  The cook had complained to Ford, as had the Ensign who had delivered the fresh bedding to Joseph’s cabin the previous night and been sent back with it three times and then had to make the bed up for the woman.  Jonathan could not explain to either of them, or to most of the growing list of people Joseph was offending, the real reason that they did not want to offend the woman, and he knew his own personal popularity was waning to an all-time low amongst the crew.

“Where the hell is your captain?!”

Joseph’s harsh voice grated on Ford’s ears, not for the first time since they had gathered together in that room.  Westphalen winced at him, herself as much on the end of the abuse as he was.  It was a unique situation for them both, neither was used to tolerating this level of rudeness from anyone.  Ford was not sure how much longer he could hold his temper.  He took a deep breath.

“Captain Bridger will be here soon.  The MAG-LEV shuttle is undergoing maintenance, he and the lieutenant have had to walk.”

“The time it’s taken them, I’ll be surprised if they haven’t crawled!” Joseph retorted angrily.  “Hell of a way to run a ship!  No wonder they relieved him of command.  I just wonder how he managed to get it back so quickly!  The man’s obviously an incompetent...”

“That’s enough!” Westphalen jumped to her feet, livid.  “Nathan is one of the finest captains...”

“Nathan?” Joseph repeated, interrupting her and raising an eyebrow meaningfully.  “I see.”  She regarded the seething doctor with a vague air of amusement.  “Not above consorting with the staff along with everything else then?  Fine way to run a ship.”

Kristen stared at her for a long moment, collecting herself before she answered.  She sat down again, and folded her hands under her chin, leaning forward on her elbows, looking very calm.  Ford could almost hear her saying to herself I am the professional here.

“I think,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “that as a guest here it’s not really your place to comment on the running of this ship.  If Secretary General Noyce felt for one moment that our captain was in any way incompetent, he would have replaced him long ago.  Now,” she looked down the table to McCall and Cioffi, who were still engrossed in their notes.  They had looked up briefly when Westphalen had exploded, but they were so used to their head’s affect on people that they had taken little notice.  “As head of the Alien Encounter Programme and its main representative on this vessel, I suggest you sit down and wait patiently as your staff are doing.  I always gain a certain amount of personal satisfaction from the knowledge that I myself am not discrediting the organisation I work for, no matter how unprofessionally those around me behave.  Perhaps you might consider joining me in following that dictum during your stay here?”

Ford inclined his head towards her admiringly.  He doubted that he would have been able to remain as calm if faced with a similar snub from the obnoxious woman.  The longer he spent with Doctor Westphalen, the more he could see why the captain liked her so much.  To Joseph, no doubt the woman was a threat, intelligent, well-liked, articulate, graceful and attractive.  Joseph herself was intelligent, and probably articulate too - her tongue was sharp enough.  But of the other qualities there was no sign.  The woman’s face was as sharp and pointed as her tongue, her hair was tightly permed to her head, and the dark-rimmed glasses she chose to wear over her pale skin did nothing for her at all.  All other things being equal, a woman like Kristen would be almost guaranteed to win a post over a woman like Doctor Joseph on looks and personality alone, and he could see how that might have embittered her over the years.  But she had still managed to rise to the top of her tree, he could not understand why she had to be quite so unpleasant.  Then, to his everlasting shock, Alex Joseph almost smiled at Westphalen, and sat down.

She was soon drumming her fingers on the table impatiently, but before she could start up again, the door opened and the wait was over.  Bridger strolled in, pretending to be totally oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Scott Keller and Krieg followed him, the astronaut immediately dropping easily into the chair beside Doctor Westphalen.   

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Doctors,” the captain breezed across to Joseph and shook her by the hand.  “I’m Captain Bridger, I hope Commander Ford’s been looking after you all!”

Ford’s expression left Bridger in no doubt as to what he thought of the job.  He and Westphalen waited with bated breath to see how impolite the doctor would dare be to their captain.  Joseph snorted contemptuously, but miraculously merely introduced her staff.  Bridger in turn introduced her first interviewee and Ford cringed inwardly as Ben gave the woman his most ingratiating smile.  He almost felt that he could count down to the woman’s next explosion.

“Doctor Joseph!”  Krieg was grinning from ear to ear in unrestrained enthusiasm.  Ford thought he was laying it on a little too thick, and even Bridger looked concerned.  “Wow!  They never said it was you leading this project!  I’ve been reading your articles in Omni for years, and I never missed a single edition of Let’s See What’s Out There either!  That was great, but then it just vanished off the airwaves.”  Krieg glanced briefly around as Ford groaned quietly.

_Oh no, he’s gushing!  And going over the top with it!  I think I'm gonna be ill!_

But Joseph beamed at Krieg, the smile lighting her straight features and making her almost pretty.  “The network pulled the plug on it,” she explained.  “I was getting too near the truth, too near to truths that people high up didn’t want made general knowledge.  So they pulled me out of the media spotlight and offered me this.  I’ve been on the project now for five years, and I’ve found out less in that time than I did in just a year on that show.  People confide in you when you’re with the media, especially if you go freelance like I did.  You work for the government, they clam up, think they’re going to be thrown in the funny farm.”

“Maybe they just lie to get on T.V.” Ford pointed out.  He was at the stage where he disliked the woman too much to be at all interested in her background, and Krieg’s interest in it worried him more than a little.  He hoped that the lieutenant’s enthusiasm did not carry him away and lead him to reveal what had really happened as a result of their discovery of the alien ship.

Joseph glared at him.  The dislike was mutual, and Ford was not quite sure what he had ever done in the first place to antagonise her.  He did not particularly care now, and was wondering if he might be able to persuade the captain that Krieg would be a far better candidate to baby-sit the woman.

“Maybe some of them did!  But I can always tell when someone’s lying, Commander Ford!  And believe me, I’ve had far more people lying to me since I took this post than I ever did before.”

Unseen by Joseph, Bridger and Krieg exchanged wary glances over the top of her head.  But Ford noticed, and like them he hoped that it was just an idle boast.

But then, where lying and Krieg were concerned, all anyone had to do was look and see if his lips were moving...

 

\-----

 

Katherine Hitchcock was not having a good day.

The ensign that she had sent to look for Lucas when she could not raise him on the intercom still had not returned.  The glitch in the computer was still there, it had worsened shortly after the captain had left the Bridge with Krieg, and it had begun to affect the power supply.  Whilst the fuel converter was apparently still working perfectly, there was a definite drainage of their power from somewhere and she could not isolate the cause.

As yet the power drain was not serious.  A detailed analysis showed that it had begun in the early hours of the morning by the shipboard standard time, what they had noticed was an increase in the loss, not the start of it.  It had started at the same time as the computer glitch, the two had to be related but as yet she could not see how.  The bug seemed to affect everything for short periods, but the drain was continuous.  She tried to reach Lucas on the intercom again.  The teenager would be cocky about their needing him, but his abilities when it came to computers were undeniable.  There was still no reply.

It had long since occurred to Katie that the random pattern of the disruption in the system was not at all dissimilar to the movement of the alien around the ship during their encounter.  However, she had numerous witnesses to the disturbances, including herself when several stations on the Bridge had momentarily gone off-line, and there had definitely not been any golden-hued creature in the vicinity.

Which, given their current visitors, was something of a relief.

 

\-----

 

Lucas was not very cool.

The little space that his head and torso were trapped in had become hot and stuffy, and the air was getting thin.  Intermittently, he still continued calling out for help, but most of the time he just tried to take shallow breaths and not to panic.  Whenever he thought about the implications of his situation, and it was very hard not to, his heartrate quickened, and his breathing turned to breathless panting.  From that state, hampered by the low oxygen, he had almost fainted on two occassions.  Most of the time he felt nauseatingly light-headed and dizzy.

Now he lay still and quiet, constantly fighting to keep down the panic that threatened to rise up and engulf him.  He did not want to pass out down there, afraid that he might not ever wake up.

The burns to his skin were very sore, and his back ached terribly from the punishment it had received when the creature had thrown him against Krieg’s wall.  He could not tell whether the ribs that he thought he had broken were actually smashed, that part of his body was out of sight and unreachable even if his hands had been free.  It hurt though, every time he breathed too deeply, which did not bode well.

Taking as deep a breath as he could manage, imagining that he could faintly hear footsteps somewhere nearby, he called out once again...

 

\-----

 

Doctor Kristen Westphalen breathed a huge sigh of relief as soon as the door closed on Doctor Joseph and her initial interrogation.  Seeing this, Bridger could not help but smile.  Despite all their worries, watching Ford and Westphalen coping with the doctor from hell was amusing him.

“Glad to be out?” he enquired, trying to keep the wry smile off his face.  It refused to obey.

Kristen tried to look disgruntled, then just laughed, taking his arm.  “Oh that woman!” They started the long walk back to the Ward Room, where O’Neill and Crocker were now waiting.  “I swear, if I had to spend another moment in her company I would have strangled her!  And poor Jonathan!  The look on his face when you told her you wanted him and Scott to sit in on all the interviews...!  You’re definitely off his Christmas card list this year!”

”Probably.  I really did want him to sit in on them, it wasn’t just for the hell of it.  Besides, I might have Ben relieve him outside of the actual interviews, he seems to get on with ‘that woman’!”

“Too well!  What if they get a little too friendly and he lets something slip?!”

“Too friendly?”

“You know what I mean.  She definitely likes him, and he’s a bit star-struck...”

“Maybe he is, but I assure you there’s no chance, not now,” Bridger glanced around as they turned into the next corridor.  There was a dolphin access tube running alongside it, and sure enough Darwin was swimming there, waiting for him.  Stopping, Bridger pressed his free hand to the glass in greeting.  Darwin turned, flicking his tail happily, and let out a stream of little squeaks and whistles.  Without the communicator there was no way of telling exactly what he had said, but Bridger knew his dolphin well enough to realise it was just a greeting, and that probably Darwin was telling him off for spending so little time with him.

“I think he’s feeling neglected!” Bridger commented, walking on, aware Darwin was keeping pace.  “He usually follows Lucas like this nowadays.  I thought he’d given up on me.”

Westphalen nodded sagely.  “Hmmm.  Lucas is probably still sulking because I wouldn’t let him near the alien doctor from hell.  Darwin doesn’t like being near him when he’s like that, I’ve noticed it before.  One day, when I’ve got time, I’d like to do some research into it.  He definitely picks up on something.”

“Yeah,” Bridger was still watching the dolphin.  “I’ve noticed him behave the same way towards me.”

Kristen laughed at that.  “You?!  Sulking?!  Now I see why you and Lucas get on so well!”  She hugged his arm, enjoying teasing him, enjoying his company.  It had surprised her how much she liked to be with him, when she initially acknowledged the fact.  Now it no longer surprised her, and was merely a little frustrating.  But she knew how deeply he had loved his wife, recognised that in order to try to replace that woman’s position in his life she would need to be patient.  Her affection was returned, of that she was confident.  “I thought it was just a little father-son substitute thing you two had going, when really you both just recognised your kindred sulky spirits!”

“Thanks!  Just for that you can walk to the Ward Room!”

Kristen smiled, quite happy with the prospect.  Besides, she could see the MAG-LEV doors fixed wide open ahead of them, it was still out of order.

“Doesn’t look as if we have much choice!  Katie must be slipping!”

 

\-----

 

It was Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock’s grip on her temper that was slipping.

Exhaustive tests on the MAG-LEV had revealed nothing, everything showed up as normal.  Then, as soon as they resealed a shuttle’s mechanisms, it would show up on the diagnostics as faulty again.  It had to be the computer, but there was still no sign of Lucas.

She had one ensign scouring the ship for him, had done for several hours now.  On top of that she had put out numerous calls for him, all to no avail.

”When I get hold of that kid, I’ll wring his neck!” she muttered through clenched teeth, as she replaced the cover on the captain’s navigation table, the latest piece  of equipment to go wrong.

“What’s that?” Phillips called up to her.  He was on his back under the table, finishing the last few tests.  He slid out, and got to his feet.

Katie shook her head.  “Never mind.  I just can’t shake the feeling that Lucas is behind this.  Don’t you find it just a little strange that he can’t be found and there’s a bug in the ship’s computer system?”

“Nope!”

“Oh?”  She was wiping her oily hands clean with a rag, none too successfully as the cloth was already filthy.

“No, if I screwed up the ship’s computer in a big way and couldn’t fix it, I’d run off and hide ‘till everyone cooled down, too!”

Katie stared at him for a moment, then saw he was joking and laughed too, throwing the filthy rag at him.  “You’re a great help!  You just check this thing’s working, I know who’ll be able to find Lucas.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

Darting across the Bridge, she was through the clam-shaped doors and on her way to the Ward Room before Phillips could even think about protesting over being left temporarily in control of the Bridge.

Phillips looked around reluctantly.  “Please,” he whispered, crossing his fingers.  “Just let everything run smoothly for a few minutes, that’s all I ask.  The ship can crash, and we can all die, just wait for the commander to get back before it does, okay?”

There was no scream of sirens answering his plea, so he assumed that it was granted.  Quickly, he checked their handiwork on the navigation table.  It still was not quite working properly.

Phillips sighed.  Hitchcock was right, it had to be the computer.  But there were at least ten crewmembers working on it, and not one of them had come up with anything at all.  He looked down at the table, not wanting to open it up again, and also not wanting to move onto whatever the commander decided needed checking next.  He glanced over at the clam-shaped Bridge doors, through which Hitchcock had not yet returned.

“If that kid can’t fix what he’s done, I’m gonna feed him to that computer!”

 

\-----

 

Lucas’s position had not improved.  At that moment, trapped under the collapsed area of shaft, in the thin air and suffocating heat, he would have infinitely preferred the entire crew’s wrath to his current position.  Especially as for once he was not guilty of the supposed crime.

There had been no footsteps.  Eventually he had come to the conclusion that the sound he occasionally heard was in fact just the air conditioning echoing down the endless shafts as it adjusted the temperature around the ship.

Surely, he thought to himself, someone should have noticed that it was not working properly by now?  The routine hourly checks should have shown it up if nothing else.  Lucas had no idea how long he had been down there, but he knew it had got to be longer than an hour.  Much longer.

The lack of any sign of life from the rest of the ship was almost more frightening than his own position.  Because Lucas could see, quite rationally, the most likely reason for the silence was that the same creature that attacked him could have attacked the rest of the ship as well.

And then there would be no help, ever.

“I hope it got Ben first,” Lucas muttered darkly.  “An’ I hope it ate him for stealing its treasure!”

With that happy thought in mind, he called out, fruitlessly, once again.

 

\-----

 

Crocker and O’Neill looked around as Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock tapped lightly on the Ward Room door then slipped inside.  She apologised for disturbing them, but neither man minded, both glad to be away from the subject of the aliens, if only for a few moments.  The captain frowned, however.

“What is it, Commander?”

”Lucas, Sir.  Nobody can find him, and I’m convinced the problems we’re experiencing are due to a fault within the computer.  None of my staff have managed to identify it, and frankly I could use all the help I can get right now.”

“And?”

“And I thought you might know where he was.”

“Sorry.  If I see him I’ll send him along.  And don’t let him know you’re so desperate for his help, I’ll need to transfer him to a larger cabin if his ego gets any bigger!”

O’Neill and Crocker chuckled at that, both men having been caught out by Lucas’ sharp brain on several occasions.  Even Hitchcock smiled, but only briefly.  They could see the concern written in her face.  She did not like problems with the ship that she could not identify.

“Yes, Sir.”  She stood for a moment, biting her lip, then quickly added: “And would it be okay to use Darwin?”

Bridger raised an eyebrow at that.  “Whatever for?!”

Hitchcock looked embarrassed.  “To find Lucas...look, I really do need this sorted out, Sir, and I think there’s a good chance Lucas has some idea what’s gone wrong, he’s never this hard to find.  It’s only minor interference at the moment, it’s probably just the tiniest bug, but supposing we run into trouble whilst the ship is like this?  I can’t...”

“Okay,” Bridger cut her short, wanting to get back to the matter in hand.  Westphalen had really got through to Tim, it seemed, and he was no longer worried about their communications officer getting caught out by their visitors.  But Crocker was decidedly uneasy about the whole thing and Bridger wanted as long as possible with his old friend before he was sent up for the grilling Krieg was currently undergoing.  “You know how to use the vo-coder?”

“Of course.”

“Then be my guest!  If you have any problems with it, call Doctor Levin.  Was that all?”

Hitchcock recognised that it was not a question but a request to leave.  “Yes, Sir.  Thank you.”  She hastened out of the room.

Bridger watched her go, waited until the door closed, then leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.  “She didn’t need to ask permission.  Darwin’s supposed to be part of the crew!”

“I think some people still regard him as ‘your’ dolphin,” Kristen suggested gently.  “Those who don’t spend that much time in the Science section watching him with Lucas.”  She glanced at her watch, and stood up.  “Anyway, it’s about time for whichever of you wants to go next to start walking!  I assume from our little interruption that the MAG-LEV is still out of order!”

O’Neill and Crocker both looked to the captain with a certain amount of dread.

“Lieutenant...”

O’Neill’s expression dropped several notches into the realms of that of a condemned man. “...if you wouldn’t mind going with the doctor now?”

“Thanks.”  He did not brighten even when Westphalen took his arm and smiled warmly at him.  Bridger had no doubts that a lengthy pep-talk would ensue all the way to the interview room.  He watched them go, then turned his full attention to his old friend.

“Just you and me, then, Chief.”

Crocker shifted uncomfortably.  “I ain’t gonna be letting you down, Cap.  I shan’t say a word about them funny-lookin’ critters.  You can rely on that.”

”I know.”  Bridger pulled his chair closer.  “I’m not worried that you will.  Look, I’m sorry I sent you over there, I should have sent Shan, or Hitchcock.  I just didn’t dream that after so long there would have been any form of life left.”

Crocker stiffened at the incorrectly perceived criticism.  “Wouldn’t have made any difference who went, Cap.  They didn’t give me a chance.”

Bridger nodded.  “I know.  Nobody would have done any better.  I’m not criticising what you did, it’s me.  I know how you’ve always felt about the supernatural, and I’ve never taken it as seriously as perhaps I should.  I should never have asked you to go, knowing that.  It really shook you up, didn’t it?”

The ageing security chief looked back at him for a moment, tiredly, then dropped his gaze to the floor.  Bridger knew him well enough to realise that the proud man was ashamed of the way he was feeling.  “I’m sorry, Cap.  I should’ve stayed with the others.  But when Commander Keller asked me to stay on the launch, that big old ship looked so cold and dark, I just couldn’t face it.  If you want me to resign...”

“Resign?” Bridger reached over and patted him on the shoulder.  “Not while I’m captain!  What you’re saying is that you stayed behind because the thought of entering that ship scared you?”

Crocker nodded, too mortified by the confession to actually put it into words.

“And then when we lost the signal, when there was a genuine reason for believing something was wrong, you went out there anyway, on your own?”

”Well...” Crocker had not thought of it that way.  It had only been the fear, and his shame over that which had stuck in his mind.  He managed to meet Bridger’s gaze again.  “I’m Security Chief.”  He shrugged.  “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.  And that’s why I asked you to go.  I knew that when it came to the crunch I could trust you over any man or woman on this ship.”  He stood up.  “Listen, I’ve got a secret supply of brandy stashed away in my cabin...”

Crocker rose, still a little uncomfortable.  He could do with a drink, Bridger could tell.  They all could.  “No thanks, Cap.  I’m on duty.  And I’d like to keep a clear head for these scientists.  Maybe in a few days?”

“Okay.  Coffee then?”

They looked at each other, seeing the total lack of enthusiasm for the drink reflected in the other’s face.  Then they both started to laugh, and Bridger dropped back into his chair again.

”It was a sorry day for the Navy when they banned alcohol, Chief!  Do you remember that New Year’s Eve party on the Idaho when Noyce was still just a commander, and we spiked all his drinks?!”

“The captain found him on the Bridge broadcasting Auld Lang Syne to any ship within range!  No-one would’ve minded, but the guy couldn’t carry a tune to save his life!  Say, who was it that banned alcohol on U.E.O. ships, anyhow?”

“Several people.  Mainly Noyce though!  Can’t think why...!”

 

\-----

 

The scene on the Bridge had not changed in the short time that she was away, Hitchcock noted with no surprise.  Everyone was still so totally engrossed in checking out whatever problem they were experiencing at their own particular station that none of them noticed her return.  None, except Lieutenant Phillips, whom she was sure breathed a sigh of relief as he trotted over to her.

“You didn’t find him then?”

“Give me a chance.”  She was heading for the moon pool, and he followed.  “Any change?”

“No.  The navigation table still isn’t right.  Nobody’s come up with any possible causes.  Oh, and the ship’s cook’s complaining because his supplies are due in any minute and not only is Ben unavailable to check them in, but the MAG-LEV’s not working and...”

“Okay, I can guess!  He’ll have to wait.  Ben should be free soon... I can’t believe anyone actually wants that man loose on their supplies, he was in the weirdest mood this morning...”

“The man’s new.”

”Oh.  Well, if this works, I hope we’ll have everything in working order again fairly soon.  Find the cause, and you should solve the problem!”  She opened the moon pool, and picked up Darwin’s vo-coder.  “I just hope he’ll come to me.”

Katie had never actually used Darwin’s vo-coder before.  Certainly she had watched others do so, but he always seemed to be almost Bridger and Lucas’ exclusive property.  Besides, she had never had any idea what on earth she could possibly say to a dolphin.

“Darwin...Darwin...”

The vo-coder emitted a high-pitched whistle which even Katie was beginning to recognise as Darwin’s signature, his dolphin name.

Darwin was still in Bridger’s vicinity, feeling a little neglected, and so responded eagerly on hearing his name called.  A few moments later Hitchcock and Phillips had an excited, playful dolphin come rushing into the moon pool, raising his head out of the water and splashing his tail to eagerly greet them.

_«Play!»_

“Aw, isn’t that cute!” Phillips leaned over and stroked Darwin’s head.  Darwin squeaked delightedly, and flipped a wave of water at him.

_«Play!  Play!»_

Phillips looked down at his soaked uniform front in dismay, then glared at the perpetually smiling mammal in mock-anger.  “I’ll have the new cook make dolphin-burgers out of you,” he warned.

« _Dolphin?  Darwin dolphin_.»

“Oh for goodness sake, he doesn’t understand.  Leave the poor thing alone,” Hitchcock pushed Phillips out of the way, and leant over the edge of the moon pool.

“Poor thing?” Phillips protested, feeling the water seeping through his uniform.  Hitchcock ignored him, and he went back to his station, well aware that everyone was far too fond of the dolphin to entertain even the most humorous thoughts of retribution.  Even Hitchcock was cooing at him now.

“Hello Darwin!”  She held the vo-coder in full view, hoping he would not risk splashing that.

_«Kay-ty play with Darwin?»_

Momentarily she was taken aback that he recognised her and knew her name.  “Later,” she promised, hoping that the dolphin would forget.  Not that she would have minded, it was just that the mess on the Bridge was going to take a very long time to sort out.  “Darwin, I need to find Lucas.”

_«Lucas not here.»_

“Lucas is hiding on seaQuest.  I would like you to find him for me, please.”

_«Why Lucas hide?»_

“I don’t know,” she told him, but had a pretty good idea.  “Can you find Lucas for me?”

_«Darwin find Lucas?»_

“Please.”  Darwin looked at her, still apparently waiting for a response.  “I mean... yes, Darwin find Lucas.”

The dolphin flipped over eagerly and sped off through the ship, obviously treating it as some sort of game.  Hitchcock watched him go, slightly awed that she had actually had a conversation with the creature.  Mammal Engineering, they called his network of pools and passageways.  She stood for a moment, wondering why she had never bothered spending any time with the dolphin before.

Maybe I should check out the other side of the engineering on this boat?!

“Commander!”

Ortiz had returned to the Bridge.  She could tell from the expression on his face that he was not bringing good news. Reluctantly, she turned her back on the moon pool, and went over to hear what the latest was on the state of the MAG-LEV.

 

\-----

 

One down.

Westphalen watched in amazement as Doctor Joseph actually got up and walked to the door with their supply officer.  Krieg was wearing his most ingratiating smile, the same one he tried in a thousand attempted cons.  On most people, it did not work.  Joseph, however, seemed unable to see through it and found him charming.  Behind them, Westphalen saw Ford catch O’Neill’s eye then mime jamming two fingers down his throat to show exactly what he thought of it all.

Momentarily she smiled at that, not used to seeing that sort of thing from Ford.  But she could imagine how he had been pushed to the limits in there, and having Krieg of all people succeeding so easily in getting the woman on side had to be sickening.  Then she caught Ford’s eye herself, and quickly changed her look to disapproval.  Fortunately, Joseph saw none of it, whilst McCall and Cioffi were too busy with their notes to notice.  Scott Keller looked as if he were asleep in his chair.  On closer look, she was not at all convinced otherwise. O’Neill sat down beside Ford, and looked up at her worriedly.

“If you want her autograph too, I’m outta here,” she heard Ford mutter.  O’Neill turned to frown at him in puzzlement, and she decided to leave them to it, especially as Joseph was returning to her seat.  She hurried out into the corridor, and closed the door behind her.

“Ben!”

The tall figure of the supply officer was fast disappearing down the passageway in front of her.  He halted at the sound of his name, and turned around.  “Doctor?”

“Hold on a minute, I want a word with you.”

Krieg waited patiently whilst she caught him up.  “Something wrong?”

Westphalen narrowed her eyes suspiciously, not liking the too-innocent expression on his face.  “You seemed pretty friendly with Doctor Joseph back there.  What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” the innocence was genuine for once.  “I used to watch her shows, they were interesting.  I just told her so.  Hey, everyone likes to be appreciated!”

“Mmm,” Kristen folded her arms across her chest, not totally convinced.  “You’d like to work on that program, wouldn’t you?”

“Me?” Ben frowned, puzzled.  “Maybe.  But it’s a bit late to change track now.”

“Unless you had help in the right quarters.  Like maybe a single lady doctor’s quarters?  Never miss a trick, do you Ben?”   

His eyes darkened, and for the first time since she had known him, she thought she saw a tinge of anger in his expression and regretted her words.  “I liked her work.  That’s all.  What’s so wrong in that?”

“Nothing.  Nothing.  I’m sorry, it was an awful thing to say, I don’t know why I said it.  Forget it.”

He nodded, still not looking too happy, but this time it was due to concern over her.  “Still worried they’re gonna find us out, huh?”

“One slip of the tongue, that’s all it’ll take.”

“Not from me.  I plan on being around when the aliens come back.  See, all that back there, the doctor was distracted, thinking about her thwarted media career.  She wasn’t gonna push too hard for answers, and those I gave she believed.  It’ll be easier for the others, too.  They just tell the same story and we’ll all be fine.  Those docs’ll go home happy, and the captain stays out of jail!  Actually, it was a stroke of genius!”

Krieg looked so pleased with himself that she almost thumped him.  But there were other ways to bring him back down to earth.

“You’re so right!” she beamed at him delightedly, taking the surprised man’s arm and starting to walk him back to the Ward Room.  “And do you know, Nathan was so impressed by your rapport with those doctors that he’s going to have you take over from Jonathan!  Isn’t that good?!”

Just for once, Benjamin Krieg was quite, quite speechless.

 

\-----

 

_«Find Lucas.»_

Darwin was perfectly happily racing down the endless maze of water-filled tunnels which was Mammal Engineering.  He had been given something to do, something which he saw as an enjoyable task.  Lucas and Bridger were his favourites amongst the humans, and although he had known Bridger longer Lucas was far more fun these days.  So searching for him was no chore but a pleasure.

True, he had already given the boat a cursory check, looking for the teenager, and had seen no sign of him.  But now he knew Lucas was somewhere on the ship, he searched harder, sending out his sonar, seeking the familiar reaction.

For a long time there was nothing.  Crewmembers seeing him pass tapped on the glass occasionally, distracting him.  But he ignored them, trying to concentrate on the task in hand.  He had sensed that Katie felt it was very important that Lucas be found soon.  Darwin hoped it was so that they could all play underwater football, but he had learnt long ago that whenever the humans wanted him to find something it was never in order that he himself could utilise it.

Still, it would certainly mean a large helping of fish if he succeeded, that always was the outcome of a successful search.  And Lucas might play...

It took Darwin nearly an hour, when he was in a lesser-used tunnel, before he sensed his friend.  Faint at first, but as Darwin moved closer the sound echoed at him again.  He listened, and called back, but he could sense that Lucas did not hear him. 

Darwin stayed, listening, sensing for a few moments more, until he was sure.  Marking the spot, he shot out of the tunnel and raced back to the Bridge.

He had never swum so fast within the confines of the ship.

 

\-----

 

"I think I've found something!"

Hitchcock's third engineer had been monitoring the system's faults for several hours, watching them, trying to  establish a pattern, trying to locate cause and effect.  Hitchcock and Ortiz were at her side in moments.

"It's a power drain," the woman explained.  "The minutest amount each time, and the ship can compensate long before there's any real danger in most cases.  I wouldn't recommend using the HR probe until this is sorted though!"

"Surely a power drain would have shown up sooner?" Hitchcock leaned over the woman's shoulder, quickly seeing the truth in what she said.

"It's virtually negligible.  And the computer seemed to be totally missing it for a while.  On less sophisticated systems it might not have shown up at all.  I'd say most of our systems can be safely operated with this occurring."

"Even the MAG-LEV?" Ortiz wanted to know.  He had spent a back-breaking morning working on the shuttles, he would have liked to hear that it was not in vain.

"Looks like it," Hitchcock tried to look apologetic.  "Sorry!"

"Oh great!"

"I still don't have any idea what's causing it, though," Hamilton pointed out.  "I...oh!"

She stopped, and turned to look, along with most of the Bridge crew, as Darwin came speeding into the moon pool.  The dolphin virtually leapt right out of the water, splashing the deck.  He continued to thrash his tail violently, drawing everyone's attention, whistling and clicking excitedly.  Katie raced across to the vo-coder, and switched it on.

_«Lucas hurt!  Dark place, danger!  People come, bring help!  Lucas danger!»_

Hitchcock put out a hand, trying to soothe the agitated dolphin, but he was having none of it.

_«Lucas hurt!  Katie come now!»_

Ortiz tapped her shoulder.  "I'll get the captain."

"Thanks."

_«Come now!  Bad shining hurt Lucas!  Darwin show!»_

"Bad shining?" Phillips wondered, standing beside her.  "Now what does that mean?"

"Fire?  I don't know," Hitchcock was kicking her shoes off.  "Get me a rebreather and an audiolink.  And a transmitter so you can follow us."  She shrugged off her jacket and began to pull off her sweater, then realised Hamilton was staring at her.  "What?"

"You're going in with the dolphin?"

"Can you think of a faster way?  Here," Hitchcock pushed her sweater and jacket at the woman.  Phillips came back with the items she had requested.  He watched as she clipped the transmitter to her vest, then handed her the sealed handset and the rebreather.

"Have a team follow me," she ordered, strapping the handset to her waist, then climbed into the moon pool.  The water was cold, and soaked through her light uniform trousers immediately.  Trying to ignore the discomfort of the temperature change, she clamped one hand firmly on the dolphin's dorsal fin, and held the rebreather to her mouth with the other.

Darwin wasted no time at all, barely giving her time to get used to swimming with him before he increased his speed and pulled her away from the Bridge area, heading back the way he had come.

The water rushed past Hitchcock's face, making it hard to see where they were going.  She trusted the dolphin not to run her into a wall, but she also knew that she would quickly be completely lost.  Phillips, following through the corridors with his team, would have to rely totally on the signal from the transmitter, because she would not be able to tell him where they were unless they surfaced in a familiar place.

Everyone Katie had ever spoken to on the subject was of the opinion that swimming with dolphins was a relaxing experience, but this was more like one of the more stomach-churning water rides at Disneyland.  She clung on, grimly, kicking her legs, trying to keep pace.  Twice she lost her grip and he had to come back for her.  Even without the translator she could sense his impatience.  The little dolphin was very worried about Lucas, and she was probably not his primary choice of rescuer.

Abruptly, the dolphin stopped.  Katie bumped against him in the dimly-lit tunnel, barely able to see where they were.  She surfaced, briefly, and did not recognise the tunnel at all.  Darwin banged his nose several times against the wall, and squealed at her.

"Here?" she asked, but he could no more understand her without the translator than she him.  She hit the wall with the palm of her hand, and looked at him questioningly.  "Lucas?"

Darwin splashed and whistled excitedly.  Katie pulled out her handset, unsealed it, and called to the rescue party.  She was not at all surprised to hear Bridger's voice answer her, and caught the concern there, barely concealed.

"Commander?  Did you find him?"

Hitchcock looked around her at the bleak, empty tunnel.  Darwin pushed at the communicator with his nose, recognising Bridger's  voice.  "He's not in here, I think Darwin senses him through the wall.  His sonar must be amazing!"

"Stay there, Commander, we're tracking you."  There was a pause, then: "Katie, Ortiz says you're out past the end of one of the maintenance tunnels.  There's nothing there."

Hitchcock looked down at the agitated dolphin, who was rubbing against the side of the tunnel again.  "Darwin seems to think there is.  And..." she paused, thinking that she heard someone call out, very faintly.  Darwin heard it too, swam around and tried to nose her towards the wall.  That was enough to clinch it for Hitchcock.  "I believe I can hear him, Sir.  You'd better get that team down here fast!"

"We're already on our way," Bridger assured her, and broke the connection.

Hitchcock resealed the communicator, and moved closer to the wall, pressing her ear against it.  There had only been the one cry, she could hear nothing now.  Still, she hammered with her fists on the solid panels that made up the tunnel.

"Lucas!  Lucas!"

She stopped, and listened, hampered by the dolphin who was splashing around excitedly beside her.  Hitchcock kept her ear to the wall, concentrating, and this time she was certain of what she heard.  But the teenager's voice, calling briefly back to her, was muffled and faint, and only called out once more.

Then there was silence, and no amount of shouting could provoke another response.

 

\-----

 

The maintenance tunnel had come to a dead end, just as Ortiz had predicted.  Nathan Bridger, Chief Crocker, and four of Crocker's men found themselves staring at a blank wall.  Ortiz, however, was crouched in front of them, still monitoring Hitchcock's signal.

"It's right through this, Sir.  She's about five metres away from us."

Crocker rapped on the heavy panel in front of them.  "Reckon my men could cut through this, Cap."

Bridger chewed on his lip, worried for Lucas' safety, but trying not to let that cloud his judgement.

"We're sure Darwin's indicating Lucas is this side of his tunnel?"

"Unless the transmitter's faulty on top of everything else, yes," Ortiz told him.  "I asked Commander Hitchcock to move to the closest position she could get to Lucas.  It's this side.  If Darwin is right, he's somewhere between them and us."

Bridger sighed.  "Take a heat-reading scan.  We'll have to locate him before we act."

Ortiz obeyed, bent over the small recorder he carried, moving it to encompass the area in front of them.  It took a moment, then:

"I've got something, just to the left of us.  Low down," he tapped the wall to show where he meant.  "It's about the right mass for Lucas."

"Cut it open," Bridger ordered.  "But be careful!"  He and Ortiz moved back out of the way as Crocker and his men moved in with the cutting equipment they had brought expecting something like this.  Two left to fetch better equipment, but the others patiently cut through the thick metal panelling.

"What the hell would he be doing down here?" Bridger wondered out loud.  "There's nothing down here."

Ortiz knew differently, but even he could not see why Lucas was this far out.  Lucas knew the maze of shafts and tunnels within the ship like the back of his hand.  Even if he had missed one turn-off down to the lower level, there were three more  between this point and Krieg's quarters.  From that he convinced himself that this was not due to a continuation of their joke the previous day, and had to be something else.

"He does like crawling around the interior of the ship, Sir.  We...uh...we were playing a joke on Ben yesterday..."

"I know, I heard about it," Bridger nodded towards the oblivious Crocker.  "Never tell our security chief anything you want kept quiet!"

"No Sir."  Ortiz fell silent, worried that it did not seem to have amused the captain.  Ben had been the best of friends with Robert Bridger, and it occurred to Miguel that perhaps Bridger senior might have a soft spot for the cheeky supply officer as a result.

Bridger's lack of humour, however, had only one source.  Lucas could never replace Robert, but he came pretty close.  The thought of the irrepressible teenager trapped and injured - and he had to be one, if not both - filled him with dread, and he was completely ignorant of Ortiz's erroneous fear.  He mis-read the Cuban's concern as being for Lucas, which of course partly it was.

"You'd better call the doctor down here, in case he's injured."

Ortiz did as he was bid.  A few moments later, Crocker and his men lifted down a large slab of panelling.  Bridger stepped forward to peer into the hole they had created, as Ortiz shone a torch into the gloom.

"Lucas?"

There was no answer.  Bridger took the torch and cast the beam around the chamber they had revealed.  Almost at once he spotted the crippled end of the ventilation shaft, where Lucas was trapped.

With Crocker's help, Bridger climbed into the confined space.  He could see the solid structure in the far wall which was part of Darwin's tunnel.  It protruded out into the space, but not far enough to be hindered by their cutting process.  But it was the ventilation shaft that caught his attention.

Further along, he could see where it branched off in several directions, feeding the crew quarters, and even the access tunnel he had just climbed out of.  But where he presumed Lucas was trapped, it did not lead anywhere, a short length of shaft that was only there to finish off that particular section of the system.  Why Lucas would have gone anywhere near to it was a mystery.  But that was nothing compared to the mystery in front of him.

The shaft looked for all the world as if some giant hand had crushed it in its fist.  Mangled and scorched in just one short section, he could not conceive of any accident that could cause this.

Behind him, one of Crocker's men was dismembering the rest of the wall, trying to make more room for them all.  Crocker himself, and Ortiz, had climbed in behind Bridger and hovered worriedly beside him as he crouched next to the mangled shaft.

"You reckon the lad could be in there, Cap?" Crocker wondered, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.  It did not look good.

Bridger stared at it, wanting to tap on the side, let Lucas know they were there, that help was coming.  But even so slight a noise would echo in that tiny space and just add to his discomfort.  Assuming the teenager was in there.  Reluctantly, Bridger looked to Ortiz for confirmation.  The Cuban had been searching the wreckage, and looked up from his scanner, apprehension clear in his eyes.

"There's a...there's someone in there, Sir.  Definitely.  Alive," he added quickly.

Bridger placed his hand on the surface of the shaft.  What he discovered did nothing to reassure him.  "This is warm!  At least that probably means he's still breathing!  But in that confined space without fresh air... Crocker," he turned to the concerned security chief.  "How can we get into this, fast, without harming the boy?"

Crocker looked down at the cutting tool he carried.  It emitted, even on its lowest setting, a very powerful torch of flame.  Even if it missed Lucas, the sparks and molten metal would drip on him.

"Can't use this." Crocker leaned over the top of the shaft, a feat made more difficult by the fact that it was suspended a foot off the deck, and tried to see the other side.  Not succeeding, he ran a hand over the surface instead, and breathed a small sigh of relief.  "Feels like this end panel's been bolted on, Cap.  Reckon we can get it off without cutting."  He stood on tiptoe, still trying to see the other side, without success.  "Don't rightly know if I can fit over there, though."

Ortiz looked at the narrow gap, then at the rest of Crocker's men.  He had brought his largest, including the giant Mars, and there was no way any of them could work in that cramped space even if they managed to get into it.  To his surprise, however, the expected request that he try did not come.  When he looked back the captain was already squeezing under the shaft, cramming himself into the narrow space beyond.  Inwardly Ortiz breathed a sigh of relief.  He was starting to ache from the strenuous work on the MAG-LEV, where they had literally pulled one of the shuttles apart to see what was wrong, and had visions of seizing up whilst freeing Lucas and needing rescue himself.

"Lucas?" Bridger was very gently tapping the panel as Crocker sorted out the new tools his men had brought.  "Lucas, can you hear me?"

There was no answer at all.  Ortiz quickly checked his scan.  When he looked up to report his findings, he found Bridger looking at him expectantly, almost fearfully.

"It's still indicating he's alive, Sir.  Maybe he's just passed out, you said it must be pretty hot in there."

Bridger's gaze jerked instantly to Crocker, and his voice was sharper than usual when he spoke: "Hurry up with that, Chief, he could be suffocating."

Crocker wordlessly handed over one of the tools.  He had known Bridger most of their working lives, and he could judge his moods better than anyone else on the ship.  He also knew better than to take any sort of offence at being snapped at, or at having the tool snatched from his hand as soon as it was in range.  Bridger had lost his family, Lucas had more or less been abandoned by his, and Crocker had watched almost a father-son bond develop between the two over the past year.  He did not think Bridger could stand to lose a second son.  Edging closer to Ortiz, worried about what the captain was going to find when he opened that panel, he whispered:

"You sure he's okay in there, son?"

Ortiz passed him the monitor to look for himself.  "Alive, yes, okay - there's no way of telling.  It’s not a medical instrument.  No, from the looks of the shaft."

Crocker bit his lip, and crossed his fingers.  Phillips had told him Darwin had leapt out of the water with the news.  That was luck, a dolphin leaping was a sign of good luck, a good omen.  Lucas would be okay.  The ageing security chief gazed worriedly at his captain's set expression.  He had to be okay.

"Nathan!"

Doctor Westphalen's voice made them all look around.  Even Bridger glanced up momentarily, then instantly returned to the job in hand.  Westphalen had just reached the Bridge when the call went out for her, there was barely time to ascertain from Phillips what had happened before she and Krieg were racing back the way they had come.  The MAG-LEV was working again, but did not go down this far.  So she was breathless when she skidded to a halt at the end of the corridor.  Clambering over what was left of the corridor wall, Westphalen and Krieg quickly joined them in the cramped room.

"Where is he?" the doctor demanded, pushing between Crocker and Ortiz.  She took in the mangled shaft, and Bridger struggling to open the panel.  "Oh..."

Crocker caught her arm and gently guided her back.  "Best keep out of the way 'till we've got it open, Doc," he advised.

Mars was lifting a heavy-duty cutter into position further down the shaft, intending to slice off the damaged portion so that they could move the boy to a more accessible spot and free him.  There was no point in saving the area of shaft, it was wrecked.  Kristen caught sight of him, and turned to the security chief in alarm.

"Surely he's not using that thing?!"

Crocker nodded.  "There's no danger to the lad, we'll be cutting well past him."

Westphalen looked doubtfully at the hulking Mars, but managed not to comment.  She knew none of them wanted anything other than Lucas' safe rescue, they would not place him in further danger.

Bridger called Krieg over at that point, the panel was loose and he wanted someone to hold it steady whilst he finished the job.  Unobtrusively, Crocker quietly radioed Hitchcock to tell her that she could come out of the water-filled tunnels now.  Westphalen absently chewed on her thumbnail, her gaze never leaving Bridger.  Even Krieg's face was deadly serious as he steadied the panel for the captain as the older man severed the last connection.

"Careful now," Bridger stood up, helping Krieg lift the panel gently over the top of the shaft. The warmth emanating from the open shaft was unpleasant, and the thought of Lucas trapped within getting hotter and hotter was unbearable.  Bridger crouched down, took a deep, steadying breath, and looked inside.

Lucas lay on his back, unconscious.  His eyes were closed, and a lock of his soft golden hair had fallen across his face.  His head lolled to one side, and he was very still, but he was alive.  He was also trapped from the waist down by the mangled mass of metal.

"Lucas?  Lucas?"  Bridger batted the boy's cheek gently, trying to wake him, but there was no response.

"Is he okay?"

Bridger looked up to see Krieg trying to lean far enough over the top of the shaft to see inside, and not quite succeeding.

"He's alive."

"Then let me get in there," Westphalen insisted, already crouching with her kit beside the shaft, eager to help her latest patient.

Reluctantly, not wanting to leave Lucas, Bridger slid out and let the doctor take his place.  Standing up, he gratefully stretched his limbs, only now registering how very uncomfortable the cramped space had been to work in.  Krieg, he noticed, was still leaning over the shaft in concern.

"Ben," Westphalen's voice carried the sharp tone she used when she would accept no arguments.  "You're blocking my light.  Move back or move out!"

Krieg took a step backwards, quickly, not wanting to hinder Lucas's rescue.  Whilst Bridger had been working, some of Crocker's men had set up emergency lighting, but it was not quite good enough to reach the awkward little corner Westphalen and Lucas were stuck in, and she was in no position to hold the torch that she had placed in the shaft.  Seeing this, and genuinely wanting to help, Krieg pulled down one of the lamps and resumed his position beside the shaft.  Westphalen looked up in brief annoyance as he accidentally shone the light in her face, but saw what he was trying to do and soon had him using it almost as a spotlight for her work.  She covered Lucas's face with an oxygen mask, resting the cylinder that fed it on the floor beneath the wrecked shaft, warning the others not to dislodge it.

At the other end of the shaft, Mars and Crocker were preparing to slice through the metal, having placed supports all along its length.  Crocker and Ortiz were checking them, wanting to be as sure as they could that the shaft would not fall to the floor when it was detached, further injuring Lucas.  Bridger trusted the two mens' judgement implicitly, but he could not stop himself making a further check.

"Looks okay to me," he told Crocker.  "Let's cut it and see.  Kristen," he turned back to the doctor.  "We're cutting it.  Get out of there."

She glared at him for the very idea.  "I'm staying with my patient."

"I'm sure your patient would much rather you were still in one piece to treat him, Doctor.  If this falls on you..."

"If it falls this way, it'll hurt Lucas a lot more than me.  Maybe I can stop it."

"I'll do it." Krieg volunteered.

Kristen looked distinctly uneasy about leaving Lucas, but saw the sense in having a stronger person there.  Krieg took her place with some difficulty, and struggled into a standing position behind the shaft, pausing only to peer momentarily at the unconscious teenager.

Crocker looked to Bridger questioningly, and the captain gave a quick curt nod.  Immediately, the two security men began to slice through the shaft.

The cutting tool eased through the relatively thin metal easily, minimising the amount of jarring to the boy's prison.  Certainly the shaft did not show any signs of slipping away from the supports they had so carefully placed.

They lifted it, between them all, carefully out into the corridor beyond.  Quickly and efficiently, whilst Kristen protected Lucas with a fire blanket, Crocker and Mars sliced away most of the metal covering his head, upper torso and legs.  But when they had finished it was plain to see that the mangled mess remaining was going to take a little longer.

Crocker looked from the cutting torch he had used to Lucas, then handed it over to Mars.  "No more use for this, son.  Have to do it the old way."

Mars stared at him blankly, even when Crocker reached into one of the tool kits and pulled out what looked like an old-fashioned pair of wire clippers.  Westphalen understood, but did not like it.

"Chief, cutting like that will pull the metal.  If he's broken any ribs one could puncture a lung if you jolt him around too much."

Bridger took the cutters from Crocker, aware the metal was too close to Lucas' skin for any other option to be viable.  "No-one's going to be careless, Kristen.  We've nothing that won't risk cutting or burning him, and we have to get him out of that."

Kneeling beside Lucas's inert form, he positioned the cutters and with difficulty made the first cut.  It did not pull too much, but the material was hard to get through and it would be a long job.  Crocker immediately found three more pairs and had himself, Mars and Krieg working on it. 

Westphalen stood back, watching the four men working, Mars calmly methodical, getting the job done.  Crocker almost the same, but the security chief could not help glancing over his shoulder occasionally at the still unconscious teenager with more than a little concern.  Krieg was not doing very well with the cutters.  When Ortiz quietly offered to take over the supply officer reluctantly agreed.  Krieg got up, and moved over to her side.  She could sense how frustrated he must feel, knowing that he and Lucas had struck up a strong friendship over the past year.  He obviously wanted to do something to help, yet was unable to do anything except stand by and watch.  She felt the same frustration herself, until he was freed there was no telling how badly he was hurt internally.  And there was always a risk that perhaps the shaft had cut into him somewhere they could not see.  No blood was in evidence, but there was still the chance.  Her gaze strayed towards Nathan Bridger.  The man was working faster than any of them, ignoring personal safety in favour of freeing the boy.  She could see a deep cut on his left hand already where in his haste he had caught it on the jagged edge of the metal he was cutting into.

"Doc."

She glanced around at Krieg, who nodded towards Lucas.  The boy's head was moving slightly, he was waking up.  Immediately she rushed forward and knelt over him, gently holding his head still, and talking to him.  The four men glanced at them, saw Lucas was regaining consciousness, and worked faster.  They all knew that if he woke up in pain, their job would instantly become infinitely more difficult.

Lucas groaned, trying to move his face away from the doctor's cool hands, weakly struggling for freedom.

"Keep still," she urged him, but he was still too far gone to pay her any heed.

Westphalen looked up, but only Krieg met her gaze with eyes as concerned as her own.  The others kept their heads down, working at freeing the boy.

Kristen bit her lip, still gently stroking Lucas' face, and waited.

 

\-----

 

O'Neill's interview had come to an end.

The communications officer got up and extended his hand politely to the three doctors only to be regarded coldly by Joseph.  Feeling awkward, Tim dropped his hand to his side and looked down at Commander Ford. 

Ford was still seated at the table.  His experiences that day had left him in such a state of near fury that the only way he could keep himself from throttling the woman was by remaining seated, fixing his vision on a point beside the interview room door where the decorators had obviously missed a small spot of paint, and going through in his mind all the Standing Orders he could remember, several times, only half-listening to the woman as she grilled Tim with all the wrong questions.  In that, at least, Ford felt a little grateful to Krieg.  He had persuaded the woman so thoroughly that they had done nothing more than explore a ship so old that contact with sea water caused it to disintegrate rapidly, that she was no longer looking for evidence of live aliens, if she ever was.  Her questions were of the design of the ship, of what O'Neill imagined the crew might possibly have looked like, of any clues at all.

They had all told about the body, there was no point in hiding that, and much of her questioning was on that, the cockpit, and the engines.  Nothing about hologram-like aliens that could make more than thirty people vanish without the slightest effort.  Ford looked up at Tim, who obviously wanted to leave.  It was a feeling he understood all too well.

"Sir, should I send in the chief?"

The water jug in the centre of the table was almost empty.  Ford could have killed for a coffee, but he knew that any such suggestion coming from him would be rejected by Doctor Joseph.  So instead he worded it more carefully.

"Sure.  Thanks for your time, Lieutenant.  Take a lunch break before you go back on duty, I hear there's steak on the menu today."

Krieg, he knew, would have told him exactly what he thought of that 'steak', and they would have been stuck in the room all day with no break.  But Cioffi's eyes lit up at the sound of that, and he closed his file with a flourish.

"Tell the chief to hold, Lieutenant.  I'm starving."

Cioffi and McCall both got up, and headed for the door with a firmness that initially surprised Ford.  But then he realised that they had worked with Joseph for a long time.  Most likely they disliked her as much as he did, and their quiet was in fact them ignoring her ways.  Scott Keller also jumped to his feet, surprisingly alert for a man who appeared to have spent most of the past six hours asleep, and beat them to the door.  Ford decided to take a leaf from the doctors' books, and just got up with them, forcing Joseph to follow.

He was a little puzzled on not finding Bridger and the chief outside, but assumed they had gone to lunch also.  Even when the lights in the MAG-LEV flickered, he did not pay it any attention.

There was, after all, still another two and a half days of Doctor Joseph to suffer.

 

\-----

 

The first thing Lucas was aware of when he woke was how bright and warm everything was.  Even though his eyes were closed, the hot spotlights were centred on him whilst his rescuers worked, and even opening his eyes just a fraction blinded him.

He could not think where he was.  Confused, he thought for a moment he was lying in his bed in the house he had once shared with his parents, lying with his light over his head, listening to them arguing downstairs, like they were now.  It took him a little while to adjust to the idea that it was not his parents but the now more familiar voices of Bridger and Westphalen that he could hear, and reconciled himself to the fact that the cool hands on his face were not his mother's after all.

He opened his eyes, and quickly shut them again, unable to bear the spotlight.  He heard the doctor ask Ben to move it, and a moment later the dazzling brightness no longer seared through his eyelids, and he cautiously opened his eyes again to look up into the beautiful calm face of seaQuest's chief medical officer.  He frowned at her, puzzled.

"What happened?"

She smiled at him.  "We were hoping you would tell us!  Darwin heard you in the tunnel.  He and Commander Hitchcock almost certainly saved your life, you wouldn't have lasted much longer in that shaft.  Now how are you feeling?  Does anything hurt?"

Lucas ignored the question.  "The shaft...I remember, I couldn't breathe... The creature...there was a creature in the shaft, it came after me..."  He began to struggle, trying to sit up, panicking at the memory then growing more afraid at the discovery that he could not escape if it came back.  "I can't move!  Doctor, I can't move!  The creature..."

"Shhh, keep still," Westphalen's cool hands stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.  "It'll be all right, there's nothing here to hurt you now."

"But if it comes back..."

"Don't you worry none, lad," Crocker's round, kindly face peered quickly over the top of the shaft, winking down at him.  "Any big scary monster comes in here, I'll personally have it keel-hauled!"

Lucas looked up into the doctor's eyes, despairingly.  "It came out of the air, like a ghost.  It was real..."

Westphalen smiled at him fondly.  "Of course it was.  Don't worry, the chief'll catch it for you.  Now just lie still and stop talking, you're making it difficult for them to cut you free!"

"But it was real!  Captain," he tried to sit up again, and this time the shaft was loose enough to almost allow him to.  But it only gave so much, then the hard metal pressed on his damaged ribs, and he fell back with a cry of pain.

"Keep still Lucas!" the doctor chided him, but he could see the concern in her eyes.  It was precisely because of that concern, because she and the others cared so much, that he could not give up.  But the movement had cost him much, and now it was painful to breathe deeply, and thus difficult to talk.

"The creature...it was in the shaft...it did this...what else...could have done?"

He could tell that they were not listening, probably believing it was something he had hallucinated whilst short of air in the shaft.  Moreover, they had cut through the wreckage now and were preparing to lift the shell off him.

"Lucas," Bridger's lined face filled his field of vision, full of concern for him.  "We're going to move this now.  I want you to keep very still whilst we do it, even if it hurts.  Think you can do that?"

Lucas nodded.  The heavy metal did hurt already, pressing on his ribs and making it hard to breathe.  He did not like the way Olden had crouched at his feet.  He could feel that the security guard had taken a firm grip on his legs.  He liked even less that Krieg had changed places with Westphalen and the supply officer was now grinning down at him.  The cheerfulness looked forced to Lucas, who knew the man well enough to tell the difference.

"Ben?  What's going on?"

Krieg was holding his shoulders down.  Not too firmly, but Lucas had the distinct impression that if he had tried to get up the man would have stopped him.

"The doc' thought you needed some of my morale officer crap!"

Lucas heard Westphalen give an exasperated tut at the description, and could imagine her rolling her eyes.  He grinned back at Ben, more because of this than anything.

"So, you want me to tell you how this is gonna stretch you as a person?!  Or maybe how this'll teach you to go sneaking round these shafts into other people's rooms, messing up their stuff, huh?  No, don't answer, the captain says you have to keep quiet...boy, I could enjoy this one!"

"Pity he didn't order you to keep quiet as well, Ben," Ortiz could not help putting in, then regretted it as Lucas moved his head to look at him and saw them all crouching ready to lift the shaft.  He tensed, and Krieg physically turned the teenager’s head so that Lucas was looking up at him again.

"I don't keep quiet.  See Lucas, all those brains and it doesn't do you any good.  Me, I get paid money to just talk like this, I could talk and talk all day..." he saw Lucas start to smile again at that, and continued faster, watching Bridger signalling to the others out of the corner of his eye.  "...and get paid for it.  Get paid more than you do as well!  And don't think I don't know how all those little piles of nuts and bolts appeared in my room, kid!  See, what goes around..."

Lucas gasped with pain as Bridger, Crocker, Mars and Ortiz as one lifted the heavy shaft away from his body.  Krieg and Olden held him down, preventing him from moving and risking further damage to his battered body.

"...keep still, keep still, look, the doc's here now..."  Krieg's voice was calming, the endless stream of distracting nonsense evaporating, replaced by a soothing tone.

Lucas winced as a spasm jerked through his body, and looked down at Westphalen and Bridger, who were kneeling either side of him.  The doctor gave him a cursory check, saw he was still not bleeding, and began a more thorough examination.

"Now can you lift your arms?"

Lucas showed her that he could, much to his own relief.  His left leg felt burning hot with the rush of blood to it now, and the pain in his chest was worse than ever.  There was no need for anyone to hold him down, he had no intention of moving anywhere.  He submitted to the rest of her checks, listening without surprise to her diagnosis of two probable cracked ribs.  The burns, however, puzzled her, spread across his stomach and arms, with one of his hands quite nastily scorched.  He listened to them all arguing over the possibility of a fire down there, then deciding it had to be some kind of electrical burnout or a fault in the temperature controls.

"It was the creature," he told Westphalen.  "It was hot, it burned me."

The doctor smiled at him and nodded, but when she turned to Bridger and spoke in lowered tones, he could still hear her tell him: "He's confused.  It's the lack of oxygen."

"Captain," Lucas struggled to sit up, but Krieg and the pain in his chest stopped him.  Bridger leant over him immediately, still very concerned.

"I'm here.  Keep still like the doctor says."

"But the creature... you have to believe me about the creature, it came out of nowhere, it was burning hot... it was from the aliens..."

Bridger nodded seriously.  "Okay, I'll have it checked out if you're so worried.  But in return I want you to lie still and do what the doctor says."

"Be careful."

Lucas sank back, exhausted.  All he wanted to do was sleep, and now that the captain appeared to be taking him seriously he no longer needed to try so hard to stay awake, to struggle to be understood.  He watched Bridger and Westphalen a moment longer, then closed his eyes, trusting the captain to take care of them all.

 

\-----

 

Bridger left the medical section with a tremendous feeling of relief.  Lucas was sleeping peacefully after Westphalen had patched him up, a draft of painkiller blocking out what he would otherwise have felt whilst she strapped his ribs.

Bridger had sent a reluctant Mars and Olden off in search of Lucas' 'monster', agreeing with Westphalen that it was almost certainly an hallucination, but wanting to be sure.  They had, after all, not found any satisfactory explanation for the condition Lucas had been discovered in.

Crocker had been despatched, even more reluctantly, to Doctor Joseph, and now Bridger turned his concerns back to the ship.  Something was causing that power drain, and he had not missed the similarities to the virus Stark had injected into the computer's core that had sparked off the chain of events leading to his taking command of the ship.  A virus from the alien ship was the most likely, if the least welcome, explanation.  He prayed it was something they could sort out before their visitors from the Alien Encounter Program found out about it.

"Captain."

Commander Hitchcock's voice startled him.  He had not noticed her, still wet, waiting outside sickbay with Darwin, beside one of his pools.

"Is Lucas okay?"

Darwin punctuated the question with a series of agitated clicks and whistles, which Bridger could recognise even without the instant translation as concern.

"He'll be fine, Commander.  You go and dry off, I'll see to Darwin.  And good work, you saved his life."

"Thank you, Sir."

He watched her go, giving the dolphin a final pet, then turned his own attention to Darwin.

"Now, old friend, what are you making such a fuss about, hmm?"

 

\-----

 

Ben Krieg could not hold a tune to save his life.  That did not stop him singing happily to himself as he made his way back from his cabin towards the MAG-LEV, having ascertained that nothing had been removed in his absence.

Having found Lucas trapped in an area of shaft not so very far from Supply, Krieg's suspicions had been rightly aroused.  Once the teenager was safely in Medbay he had hurried back to his cabin.  Everything was as he had left it, however, even the grille over the ventilation shaft entrance was firmly in place.  The small globe he had stolen from the alien ship sat on his bedside table, still glowing faintly.

So he closed the door, locked it, and went off down the corridors.  Singing tunelessly, he headed back to the Bridge.

Life on the UEO's flagship had, until now, been something of a disappointment to him.  The initial shock of being reunited with his abrasive ex-wife had been tempered by the prospect of what he hoped was a fortune to be amassed in personal profits from the black market side of his role on the ship.  Captain Bridger's eagle eye had soon put paid to that, and try as he might, Krieg had never managed to acquire more than the barest minimum of profit from these activities.  Often Bridger had ensured that the only thing the supply officer made was a distinct loss.  But the alien ship made all that redundant, made everything worthwhile.  And Katie...

Katie was walking down the corridor towards him, a damp towel draped around her shoulders over a soaked vest and trousers that clung to her like a second skin.

Ben stopped, his expression slipping easily into a lopsided grin that he had no idea was so close to a leer.  He leaned against the wall, watching as she absently rubbed at her hair with the towel, so deep in thought that she did not notice him at first.

"Hey baby," he called softly as she drew closer, and she jumped, startled.  "You want me to help you with that?"  He tried to pull the towel out of her hand, but she hung onto it and instead he took hold of both ends, pulled her close to him and bent his head slightly to kiss her.

"Ben!" Hitchcock pushed him away, with enough force to cause him to almost lose his footing.  He steadied himself against the wall, gazing at her in confusion.  "Have you been drinking?!"

"No!  You..."  he stopped, then a slow smile of understanding spread itself across his features.  "Ah, not in the corridor, right?  Not where someone might see..."

"Not anywhere!  I don't know what's got into you, Ben, but if you don't stop harassing me there's going to be trouble!"

"Harassing you?!"  It was Krieg's turn to look amazed.  "Honey, last night you..."

"I am not your honey!  And as for last night, if you think you can read anything into that then you're just kidding yourself.  It's over.  Finished.  I thought we'd become friends again, but no, you have to read more into it and spoil things!"

Krieg could hardly believe what he was hearing.  Katie could be moody at times, he knew that better than anyone, but she was rarely this unreasonable unless pushed.  And he had not pushed her.  In fact, the last time he had seen her to talk to properly she had been warmer and friendlier to him than he could remember her being in a very long time.  That was even before she had come to him in the night...

"Me?  What do you expect when you come sneaking into my room wearing next to nothing, then climb into bed with me, huh?!  What?!"

For a moment Katie stared at him in a stunned silence.  Then she began to laugh.  She tried not to, but it was impossible.

"Oh Ben," she shook her head, trying to control her humour.  "It's very flattering to know you still feel like that, but do me a favour... Next time you have a wet dream, keep it to yourself, huh?"  She flipped her towel at him, and, still smiling to herself, continued on her way.

Krieg turned to watch her go, stunned by the change in her.  He was totally confused, and not a little hurt.  Last night he had taken her back gladly, without a second thought, her compliance allowing him to acknowledge feelings he had been at pains to suppress over recent months as they had grown closer again.  He knew Katie well enough to be certain that she would never allow him back into her bed lightly, and he could not believe she would use him for a one night stand.  He could not let her go that easily.

"Katie!"  Krieg ran after her, and caught her arm, pulling her around to face him.  "Honey, don't do this.  Yesterday you were kissing me, then swearing blind it was a mistake.  Last night you threw yourself at me and now you say you didn't.  What's going on?!  I mean, I'd like to know, I am the one you're taking out your frustrations on!"

"Frustrations?  Me?!  I'm not the one having perverted fantasies and then trying to persuade people they actually happened!  Now look," she straightened, reminding herself that she was the senior officer here and he had no right to be behaving like this towards her.  "You'll stop this, right now, or I'll report you.  And don't think that I won't just because we were married once!"

Krieg stared at her, and she glared back.  He recognised the signs, seeing that they were squaring off for a gigantic fight, and this time he had no idea what he had done to deserve it.  But the captain's warning came back at him, and he knew that whatever was wrong, they could not afford to let this one boil over.  Holding that thought uppermost in his mind, he swallowed his pride with extreme difficulty, and backed down.

"Okay.  If that's what you really want.  But..." Krieg paused, trying to find the right words to tell her that whatever the problem was, he was there for her, let her know he cared about her, tell her he did not understand this, all in a way that would not infuriate her further.

She was waiting for him to finish, and he could see the anger still there in her eyes.  He knew her well enough to recognise that anything he said whilst she was in this mood would only make things worse.  So he gave in, bitterly disappointed, terribly hurt, and trying desperately not to show it.

"Well?"

"Nothing.  You...did a great job finding Lucas.  I've gotta go."

Before she could say anything else to cut at him, he quickly turned away and headed back on his original course towards the Bridge.  This time he did not sing.

 

\-----

 

Kristen Westphalen stood at the end of the Medbay bed that they had settled Lucas into, watching her young charge thoughtfully.  Lucas was asleep, which was something of a relief as his ramblings about the creature which he believed had chased him had got more difficult to make sense of by the moment.

Nobody could understand how or why the shaft had collapsed like that.  The flaw somewhere in the computer, that most of the crew were still desperately trying to sort out, was thought to have been responsible in some way, but nobody could see how.  Even if it had all given way under Lucas's weight, it did not explain why the metal had virtually formed itself to his body, only leaving him the tiniest space to breathe.  And then there were the burns.

Wherever the metal had touched him, his skin was burned.  Not badly, fortunately, but that in itself deepened the mystery.  If some sort of gigantic power surge had caused the metal to melt, it would have burned him terribly.  As it was only the palm and fingers of his right hand were in need of serious treatment.  It was as if he had picked something up and that had burned him.

When he awoke, she hoped he would be more coherent and provide the answers they wanted.  But he had been starved of oxygen for too long, his system needed to recover from that and the shock, so reluctantly she let him sleep on.  Mars and Olden were still searching for the mythical 'monster', none too seriously, whilst a small team from Engineering were investigating the site to see what had gone wrong.

"Kristen?"

Levin had come up silently behind her, and the sound of his voice made her jump.  He had been quite fascinated (too clinically so, Kristen privately thought) with the burns on Lucas's hand, and had spent the past two hours running tests on tiny samples of the damaged area.  Now he gently pulled at her arm and inclined his head towards the laboratories, indicating that they should go there to talk so as not to disturb Lucas.

"Leave the boy, he'll be fine," Levin whispered when she automatically glanced back at the sleeping teenager in concern, and Kristen smiled, aware she was starting to be over-protective.  The numerous monitors around Lucas would signal the moment anything was wrong.  Quickly she went with Levin.

The doctor had been busy with the samples, she could see that at once.  His corner of the lab, whilst normally a mess, had escalated into a certifiable disaster area.  Crocker, she knew, would not come near this part of the lab, disliking the subject matter of the majority of Levin's books and magazines, all of which were heaped under his desk.  The crystal skull he kept on top of his monitor did little to help matters either.  Kristen was unconcerned by Levin's interest in the paranormal and was broadminded enough to often be interested herself.  It was the number of discarded, half-empty coffee mugs strewn around that she disliked.  Especially the ones that had been there long enough to develop a head...

In the midst of all this was Levin's computer terminal, complete with microscope attachment and component analyser.  It was the readings from this which he immediately drew her attention to.

"This," he told her, displaying a badly burned hand on the screen, "is the damage a burn should have caused to Lucas's hand according to the scorching on the epidermis.  However, this," he changed the view on his screen to that of another hand, far less badly damaged, "is the depth of damage to Lucas.  Whilst it's just possible he pulled away in time, it's very unlikely considering how badly damaged the skin is.  So I checked further.  And what I found doesn't explain the burn, but it's so unusual I think it's worth taking a look at.  Here," he changed the display again, and this time Kristen found herself looking at the breakdown of some sort of chemical compound.  It matched nothing she had ever seen before.

"What is it?"

Levin shrugged.  "I don't know.  There's only the faintest traces of it, but it's just on  the boy's hand, where he's been burned.  It's nothing from the Earth, unless I'm very much mistaken."  He sighed, and looked back over his shoulder towards the still sleeping teenager.  "I'd say the kid's been messing with one of the samples Commander Keller brought back.  It may have somehow reacted with the metal and caused what happened.  The dust, residue, or whatever it is, seems like it could have mildly hallucinatory effects.  It would explain his 'monster'."

"Yes," Kristen was fascinated by the readout, and relieved at the logical explanation.  When Lucas woke up he would have some explaining to do.  "I told him not to touch those samples!"

"And you thought he'd listen?!"

She shrugged.  "There's always a first time..."

 

\-----

 

Jonathan Ford had lived through better days.

When Doctor Joseph and her colleagues finally finished questioning Crocker, and the chief had gratefully hurried away, they had started on one of the samples Keller had brought back from the ship.  They had taken over a small area of the science labs for this, and Joseph had virtually thrown Ford out.

Leaving Keller to it, Ford made a bee-line for the captain, who was on the Bridge trying to pinpoint the source of the power drain without any success.

"Captain."

Bridger, Hitchcock, three of her engineers, Shan and Ortiz were all huddled around the Engineering station, scouring the systems for an answer to the question that had foxed them all day.  Bridger was not at all reluctant to leave the fruitless task to the others, and stepped down to see what the XO wanted.  He could guess, of course.

"Who's watching our visitors?"

"Keller.  They've locked themselves in the lab and won't be out for hours.  Captain, I'd like to request a week's leave, starting now!"

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep!"

Bridger laughed, knowing Ford was not totally serious about the leave.  "Request denied.  Have Krieg take over from you, take a break, then come back here."

"Yes Sir!"  Ford was grinning from ear to ear.  "Thank you!"

"Thank me later, when you see the problem we've got up here."

"Can't be worse than the problem I'll be leaving!"

"Don't bet on it.  We've got a power drain on all systems, can't find what’s causing it.  It's only very small but it's slowly increased since we first noticed it.  We could be up all night searching for the cause.  You might wish you returned to those scientists!"

"No way!  Ben can keep them.  Say," he caught sight of the captain's hands.  Both were covered in numerous cuts, and one was tightly bandaged across the palm.  "What happened to you?!"

"Lucas had an adventure in the ship's innards.  A ventilation shaft collapsed around him.  He's in Medbay, a little worse for wear but he'll be okay.  Don't ask what he was doing in there, he says he was chased by a monster!"

Ford grinned, then thought about it and asked seriously, cringing inwardly as he did so:  "Could all this be residue from our encounter?  A monster... that alien did just vanish..."

"I know.  Crocker has two very unhappy security guards currently combing the ship on a monster hunt.  Which reminds me, how did the chief's interview go?"

"No problems."  Ford's gaze roamed over the scene before him - the tight bunch of engineers working furiously together, the frustrated expression on each of their faces, then the argument breaking out over at the helm about who had sent the ship several centimetres off course...  It was a result of the power drain, but nobody was registering that, just reacting to the growing tension on the Bridge caused by everyone's inability to discover the cause of the fault.  "Guess I've really been out of things!"

"Believe me, you've missed nothing!" Hitchcock muttered to him as she broke away from her junior engineers and strode over to break up the argument.  She looked exhausted, and her intervention was neither patient nor gentle.  Bridger nudged Ford's arm, noticing it.

"The commander's well overdue a break too, take her with you, she can fill you in on what's happened.  I'll manage here.  She's too tired to be effective."

Hitchcock, as both Ford and Bridger expected, was less than pleased with the decision.  She liked to follow a job through, and would work at something until it was finished, no matter how long it took.  Jonathan knew her well enough to recognise that there was more to her stony-faced silence in the MAG-LEV than just that, but he was not really in the mood to pursue it.  Instead, he tried cheering her up with a brief description of his time with the doctor from hell, but when he began to describe her total change of attitude once Krieg had started soft-soaping her, Hitchcock's expression grew several shades darker again.  He was always suspicious whenever she reacted to anything regarding Krieg, be it positive or negative, and a frightening thought crossed his mind.

"Tell me that face isn't because you're jealous, Katie!"

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment he thought he was going to get the full force of her pent-up temper.  But Hitchcock had more restraint than that, and she just shook her head.  As the MAG-LEV doors opened she stood up and led him out.

"So what's wrong?" he asked after all.

"Nothing.  I just want to get the ship back in working order.  It's so frustrating!"

Ford dropped the subject, heading for the Mess.  He expected to find Krieg there but intended despatching the man to the Science labs immediately so foresaw no real problems even though he was obviously the source of Hitchcock's mood.  She was walking beside him when they entered the Mess.  When she saw Krieg she averted her eyes and headed very pointedly for the self-service counter, as far from the man as possible.

Krieg's eyes, Ford noticed, followed Hitchcock as she moved across the room.  He looked no happier than she did, his face pale and shadowy from lack of sleep.  It had not been noticeable before, during the interview, when his bright and breezy mood had lifted him and everyone around him.  Ford coughed, drawing his attention, and Krieg looked around.

"The captain wants you to take over from me with baby-sitting the alien doctors, Lieutenant.  Westphalen's agreed you can go back in the labs, just as long as you don't start interrogating people again!"

"Okay."  The tone was dull, disinterested.  Ford waited for the expected smart or snappy remark but it never came.  Krieg remained where he was, gazing down now into an empty coffee mug.

"He meant now, Krieg," Ford added, when the lieutenant showed no signs of moving.  Across the room, Katie was deliberately dawdling over her meal.  Ford knew that there was no way it could take more than a minute to choose the two lettuce leaves and teaspoonful of salad cream that the woman seemed to survive on.  She never wasted much time on food normally, especially when she was busy, her current apparent interest was unusual.

Ben pushed back his chair with a loud scraping noise which reverberated around the quiet room, picked up his tray and stood up.  Ford followed him as he went to dispose of it, seeing him pass two disposal units in favour of the one closest to Hitchcock.  As he utilised it, and turned as if to speak to the woman, Ford caught his arm.

"Don't screw this up, Ben.  Concentrate on the job, not anything else."

"No problem."

Ford frowned.  It was Ben saying the words, but in a tone so unlike the easy, confident one he normally used that the XO was concerned.  The basic reason was fairly obvious, and he could not stop himself wondering what had happened this time.  It was not unusual for Hitchcock to be in a bad mood over something that Krieg had said or done, but for the easy-going supply officer to be equally affected had to mean something more than their regular little disagreements.  Hitchcock had gathered her lunch and headed straight back across to the other side of the room the moment Krieg had turned to her.  Now he was looking after her, and moved to follow, but Ford stopped him, placing a hand firmly on the junior officer's chest.

"No.  I don't know what you've done this time, but let her cool off."

Krieg gazed at him despondently.  "It always has to be something I've done, doesn't it?"

Ford shrugged.  "Check your track record."

Again the expected snappy reply never came.  Krieg just turned and wandered off.

Collecting his own meal, Ford made his way back to the table where Hitchcock was sitting.  She was not eating, merely turning the food over with her fork, lost in thought.

"Penny for them?" he offered as he sat down.  "Or shall I guess?"

She looked up, and met his gaze with eyes which even after all the years he had known her he still found startlingly attractive.  "Not if that guess involves your jealousy theory, Jonathan, because it would be wrong."

"It's Ben, though, I can see that.  What's he done this time?"

Katie shook her head.  "Nothing.  Not really."

"Well you're both acting pretty tetchy over nothing!  Come on, Katie, Bridger's already worried, if he sees you acting like this he'll haul the pair of you up in front of him and..."

"Okay!"  her tone was unexpectedly sharp, and her eyes flashed with anger.

  Ford had known her a long time, but still he found her difficult to comprehend at times.

  "Yes, it's Ben."  She glanced quickly around the virtually empty Mess, then continued in lowered tones:  "He's...made it clear he wants us to get back together.  He got the wrong idea, it's partly my fault, but he's confusing fantasy with reality, and reading too much into everything!  When I put him right... well, you can see how he took it.  I feel bad, but what else could I do?"

Ford nodded slowly, chewing on his dinner.  The idea that Krieg might be even considering renewing their relationship angered him, and he was aware that the anger did not stem merely from indignation on behalf of his friend, which only served to make him angrier.  He hated the way that someone as unworthy as Krieg seemed to still be able to influence that beautiful, intelligent woman, despite everything he had put her through.  He could  see, even if Katie could not, that she and Krieg were drawn irresistibly together and always would be.  Poles apart, which caused constant friction, it was the worst case of opposites attracting that he had ever seen.  He had watched their relationship change over the years, when he had first known Katie she was fresh off the Coleridge and in the midst of a messy divorce.  Perhaps it was knowing her in those days, seeing what the broken relationship took out of her, that had caused him to dislike Krieg so much when they were finally posted together.  Or perhaps it was just  the speed at which,  to his  way of thinking at least, she seemed to have forgotten all the unpleasantness and become what he saw as too friendly with her ex-husband again.  When she and Krieg had come away from preparing the launch for its visit to the alien ship, Hitchcock had trotted straight down to the Captain.  Next thing Jonathan knew,  Krieg was on  the exploration team and a huge bunch of flowers had mysteriously materialised in  Katie’s quarters.  This current problem was exactly the sort of consequence he feared.

No.  He feared that it would go further, that the pair would get back together as Ben wished, and that in the future, when they were no longer on the same boat, every time he wanted to see his friend there would be that obnoxious husband/ex-husband/whatever tagging along.  Jonathan Ford was far too professional to ever get involved with someone he worked with, or so he told himself, but he knew that professionalism was not ever going to be a major problem for Krieg.  Occasionally now, Ford was starting to question his own standards, to wonder if perhaps they might not be too impossibly high.  This latest turn of events would cause him to question them further.  He and Katie were so perfectly suited, they got on so very well, and they looked good together.  And he knew that, no matter what, he would never hurt her like Ben had done.  He resolved to wait until they were next on shore leave together, and then sound her out.  But in the meantime...

Ford was quite sure that he did not want to know the details of what had happened, but Katie was his friend and obviously needed someone to talk to.  He knew that if their positions had been reversed she would have been more than willing to help him.

Except I'd never be dumb enough to get involved with someone like Krieg in the first place...

Sighing inwardly, he reached over and took the fork out of her hand.  "Maybe you'd better tell me what happened.  Slowly..."

 

\-----

 

Nathan Bridger was not having the best of days.  The knowledge that he was not the only person on the ship in that situation did not make it any easier.  He found it extremely worrying that in his entire (albeit still rather depleted following the mass exodus two days earlier) crew of top quality staff, there was nobody who could discover what was causing the power drain.  Worse, they seemed to be of the unanimous opinion that once Lucas was back on his feet the teenager would find it right away.  They had, he realised, got all too used to calling on the wunderkind every time something went wrong.  In truth, Lucas would no more have been able to find the fault in this case than any of the others, but neither Bridger nor his staff had any way of knowing this.

Sickbay, Bridger was a little alarmed to see, was almost deserted.  Most of the science section were busy working on the samples brought back from the alien ship, or on their own private research.  But when he went into the small room where Westphalen had settled Lucas, he found the doctor seated beside the boy's bed, working quietly on her laptop computer.  She looked up at his approach, and smiled.

"How is he?" Bridger whispered, crouching down between her and the boy.

"Still sleeping.  He'll be okay, don't worry."

"Who said I was worried?!  I just want our expert here to wake up and fix the computer!"

Kristen laughed, knowing he was not serious, and placed the laptop carefully on the floor.  "Maybe in a few days."

"Hmmm.  It might have to be sooner than that."

"Trouble?"

"Power drain.  Negligible at the moment, but it's definitely increasing.  In a few days it'll be serious.  A few days beyond that and we'll be dead in the water!"

"Oh surely you have staff that can deal with it as well as Lucas?!  Nathan, this is supposed to be the UEO flagship, crewed by experts!"

"That's what I thought too.  This is a tricky one, Kristen, nobody, in any area of expertise, can find the cause.  I don't like pushing him when he's ill any more than you do, but right now we need all the help we can get."

"Well," she looked across at the sleeping boy.  "There's nothing he can do at the moment, so I suggest we leave him in peace.  Come and take a look at what Josh found out about how this happened."

Bridger stood up and followed her out to the main laboratory.  "You've found the monster?!"

"Sort of.  We think he couldn't resist poking around the alien artefacts Scott brought back, and some sort of dust on them caused hallucinations.  One more thing to hide from those scientists, I'm afraid.  They've locked themselves in with some of the things, but fortunately Josh and I managed to 'remove' the items we think caused the trouble."

Bridger raised an eyebrow.  "Pity.  That doctor Joseph could use a good trip!"

For a moment Kristen frowned at him, then burst out laughing, unable to keep the appearance of disapproval up.  "Oh Nathan!"

"So how're things going with our guests?  I had Krieg relieve Jonathan, I thought I was about to be minus one good XO!"

"Mmm.  She really doesn't like him.  And what on earth's wrong with Ben?!  He's moping around like someone just died!  He was on cloud nine earlier, now he's been slouched in a chair outside Joseph's lab for the past five hours looking the picture of misery.  The other three seem okay, or else I'd be thinking it was an after-effect of their visit to that ship!"

Bridger groaned inwardly, well able to guess what it was going to be.  Hitchcock had been tetchier than usual that afternoon and it did not take a genius to work out roughly what the causes were.

Well, I warned them both...

"I've got a pretty good idea what it is, and it isn't anything to do with that ship.  Leave it, we haven't got time for an ex-marriage counselling service, the main priority has to be getting the seaQuest back in working order and getting those damned scientists out of our hair!"  He stopped, realising that she was no longer listening, and followed her gaze back towards the room where Lucas was.  "What's wrong?"

Kristen did not answer, but her pleased smile as she hurried back to her patient told him that it could not be very much.  He followed her through, and found Lucas lying in the sickbed looking around in confusion.  Westphalen sat on the edge of his bed and gently stroked his forehead, pushing his soft fall of blond hair back out of his eyes with as much tenderness as she would have had he been her own child.

"Where...what's going on?" Lucas looked dazedly up at her.  "Where'd everyone go?"

Westphalen smiled fondly down at him.  "You've been sleeping for quite a while, Lucas."

Bridger joined her, relieved and pleased to see that the teenager did not appear to have suffered any major damage.  "They all got fed up and went home when they found there was no monster after all.  I think Crocker was hoping it was Bigfoot at least!  He had his camera all set up ready!"

Lucas rolled his eyes in disgusted.  "There was a creature," he stated pointedly.

"No.  There was a young man who decided to disobey everyone and go nosing through things that he'd been specifically told to leave alone.  There's a fine dust on some of the alien artefacts that can cause hallucinations if inhaled."  Bridger tapped him on the end of his nose, and Lucas scowled at him.  "You must've breathed in!"

"I didn't know it was one of the artefacts.  And it burned me, I dropped it right away.  That was when the creature came after me."

"And the creature came from where?  Out of the air, perhaps?" Bridger asked quizzically, vaguely amused now that he was sure Lucas was safe and well.

Lucas did not answer, but the annoyance on his face spoke volumes.

"Yes, I thought it might have.  When you're ready you'd better show us which it was so that no-one else gets scorched by it."

Lucas screwed up his face, trying to remember what the artefact looked like.  He found that he could not even remember where he had discovered it.  "It was round," he managed after a while.  "And it burned me.  That's all I remember about it."

Westphalen patted his cheek reassuringly.  "That's okay, we'll find it.  What I don't understand is, why did you climb into the ventilation shafts afterwards?"

Lucas shook his head.  "I don't remember.  We were playing a trick on Ben earlier...  I just don't remember anything very clearly."

Westphalen nodded, understandingly.  "That's natural with hallucinogens.  It may never come back."

"And we'll never know why that shaft collapsed," Bridger added.

Lucas lay back, staring up at the ceiling.  "It was the monster," he repeated.  "It crushed the shaft in its bare hands..."

 

\-----

 

It was late, and Katherine Hitchcock was very tired.  Earlier, she had been fine, having reached the point of tiredness where it abated and she felt as if she could go on for hours.  But now she was exhausted, totally, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bunk and sleep for a month.  Only she, Bridger and Ford were left on duty, even Krieg had been sent a relief after it became apparent that Doctor Joseph was going to stay up studying the artefacts all night.  She rubbed at weary eyes and tried to focus on the screen in front of her.

"Katie."

The woman looked around at the sound of Ford's voice, and saw her second engineer standing beside him, ready to take over from her.  "Relief?"

"Don't even think about denying you need sleep," the XO warned, and she had little choice but to agree.

Once she had handed over, she headed straight for the MAG-LEV, but Ford caught up with her and steered her towards the Ward Room.

"Sorry.  I'd kill for a rest too, but the Captain's just come back from talking to Lucas again and he wants to see us."

"More trouble?"

Ford shrugged.  "He wouldn't say.  I think it's a safe bet though!"  He tapped on the door, held it open for her, then followed her inside. 

Bridger was sitting at the desk, watching a series of images pass across the screen on the wall in front of him.  Hitchcock recognised some of them as artefacts and samples that Keller and his team had brought back from the ship.  Lucas and Westphalen were sitting beside him, Lucas in particular looked quite miserable.

"Hey Lucas," she grinned at the boy, still feeling pretty pleased with herself for saving him despite all the other events of the day which seemed to have conspired to drag her down.  "How're you feeling?"

His disgruntled face said differently, but "Okay," was what came out of his mouth.  "Thanks for finding me, Commander."

"Thank Darwin."  Hitchcock and Ford settled themselves around the table.  Katie instantly regretted sitting down, not entirely sure that she could make it back up again.

"What's the problem?" Ford asked the doctor, too tired himself to do anything other than go straight to the point.

Westphalen quickly explained what they believed had happened to Lucas.  "When he was ready, I went through the artefacts we had put aside with him.  The one he touched wasn't amongst them.  These," she indicated the images before them, "are the ones Doctor Joseph is looking at.  He says it's not one of these either, but of course we can't get in and find out."

"It's not one of these," Lucas insisted.  "It was small and round, like a little globe..."

Hitchcock froze, a dreadful suspicion forming in her mind.  She had seen that artefact...

"...and it was warm, hot, it burned me."

Hitchcock pushed back her chair and stood up very, very quickly.  They all looked around at her in surprise.

"What's wrong, Commander?" Bridger asked.

"I think... I might know... I have to check something, excuse me!" 

She fled from the room, not caring how strange it looked, or how puzzled they were.  Ahead of her, the MAG-LEV doors were starting to close, and like Krieg had done earlier in the day she ran for the shuttle and leapt through the closing doors.  As she fell into a seat opposite, she saw Jonathan fast approaching the shuttle himself, coming after her.

But she would not wait.  Ben, she knew, had come off duty nearly an hour before, and would have gone straight back to his cabin in his current mood.  If Lucas's description and her own suspicions were right, then there was not a moment to lose.

If it was not already too late.

 

\-----

 

Ben Krieg had not gone straight to his cabin.  First he had tried to raid the Mess bar, but had come up empty-handed, the alcohol ban still strictly in force.  Next he had tried Crocker, but the security chief's cabin was in darkness which either meant he was asleep or out.  Either way, he was not likely to part with any of the secret whisky supply Krieg was convinced he had hidden away somewhere.

Having totally failed to obtain any Dutch courage, (the supply in his cabin too revolting to even consider drinking save in the most dire emergency) he finally slunk along to Hitchcock's cabin, forced to face her without it.  Like Crocker's, this was in darkness, but he rapped on the door anyway, knowing she was often more willing to see his side of things when she was sleepy.

Unfortunately, Hitchcock's cabin was in darkness because she was still on duty, and soon enough he had to admit defeat and return to his own quarters.

Stripping down to a T-shirt and shorts, he stretched out on his bunk, tired but far too tightly wound up to even think about sleeping.  He considered going back and waiting outside her cabin until she came off duty, but knew how angry she would be at this, especially if anyone saw him there.  So instead, he stayed where he was, lying on his back in a brightly-lit room, brooding on the day's confusing events.

Eventually, sensing his lack of activity, the lights in the cabin automatically dimmed.  He sat up, intending to turn them back onto full power, then thought better of it.  Instead, reaching into one of the cupboards over his bed, he pulled out one of the bottles of illegal beer that he had hidden there after all.  It was dreadful quality, only for use as a very last resort or for sale to the highest bidder.  With this particular beer, most people on the ship would sooner go without, so Krieg's little supply was a permanent fixture.  The wine beside it, he knew, tasted so bad that it was a wonder it had not burned through the bottle by now.  Still, he took the beer and closed the compartment, then on impulse opened the one next to it and pulled out a handful of photographs.

Krieg settled himself back down on his bed, opened the bottle, and took a swig.  Immediately he wished that he had not as the unpleasant taste filled his mouth, and, swallowing with difficulty, he put the bottle on the floor.  Picking up the little globe he had stolen from the alien ship, he lay back down and began to look through the photos.

There was something very reassuring about the little sphere, the way that it glowed and hummed to itself in his hands, and after a few moments he began to feel better.  It had already occurred to him that perhaps it was some form of alien relaxation device that he had taken.  It had also occurred to him that it could be an innovative cure for all stress and that if he could ever find out how it worked he would be made for life.  At some point he knew he would have to let Lucas in on the secret, let his super-brain figure it out, then they would both be multi-millionaires.

"Bet you wouldn't blow hot and cold on me then, would you honey?" he told the picture of Katie which had somehow found its way to the top of the pile he was looking through.  The face in the photo just smiled at him, young, loving and open, with none of the suspicion that punctuated it whenever she looked at him now.  It was an old photo, taken in their early days at the academy, long before they were married, or divorced, or involved in the peculiar relationship she had now initiated.

Dropping the rest of the pictures to the floor, he stood just that one up beside his bed, and lay on his side with his back to the door, staring at the photo.  It brought back so many memories, not just of Katie as she was.  The academy building in the background reminded of other things, of friends he had known, of the fun they had all had at that place, friends he would never see again.

And now it was many years later and he knew that she would never smile at him like that, ever.  It hurt, no matter how much he tried to pretend that it did not, it hurt, it always had, and now he was beginning to wonder if it always would.

As before, he did not see her come in.  He was not aware that anyone had entered the room until a long, slim, bare arm reached across him and picked up the photo.  When he rolled over, startled, he found himself looking up at his ex-wife, who was smiling down at the photo.

This time, however, she looked different.

"Katie?"

She did not answer him, but looked up from the picture and smiled.  She smiled the exact same smile as the one she was smiling in the picture.  All the tiredness that he had seen in her face during the day was gone.  She looked younger, brighter.  He knew it had to be his imagination, but even her hair looked longer.

In fact, she looked exactly the same as she did in the photograph.

"Katie?" he asked again, no longer quite sure.  The woman before him was wearing the same green cotton print dress that Katie had been wearing in the picture.  It was too much of a coincidence.  Either someone was playing a pretty nasty trick on him, or there was something very strange going on.  The figure in front of him still said nothing, but put down the picture, leant forward, and tried to kiss him.

It took more force of will than he thought he had, but he managed to push her away, and got up quickly.

"No, not again.  Tell me what's going on, Katie."

Again she did not answer, but smiled at him and draped her arms around his neck.  He thought that he could hear her faintly purring.

"Katie!"

Disentangling himself, he caught her arms and made her sit down on the bed beside him.  She did not stop smiling at him whilst he did so, and if he had any doubts that something was wrong, this dispelled them.

"Talk to me, honey.  Did you take something?  Drink something?  You want me to call Doctor Westphalen?"

She shook her head, still smiling, and lay back on the bed, opening her arms out to him.  Krieg stared at her, not sure what he should do.

No, he knew what he should do: call Doctor Westphalen at once.  But if Katie was drugged, or drunk, it might go on her record and she would never forgive him.  If he could pull her through this, it might get him back in her good books again.  And, he told himself as he looked down at her lying there, being in her good books could have distinct advantages.

"Now honey," he stood up and leant over her, keeping just out of reach.  "I don't know what's wrong, and I'm gonna hate myself for this in the morning, but if anyone else sees you like this you're gonna be in big trouble.  Now," he stepped back as she half-sat up and reached for him again, "I'm gonna make you some real strong coffee, and you're gonna drink it and keep drinking it till you come out of this.  Okay?"

The woman did not answer him, just continued to smile and reach for him, totally unpeturbed.  When he walked across the room to fix her some coffee, she followed and draped herself over him again, kissing and nibbling at him.

Ben nursed the fervent hope that the coffee worked, because he doubted he could continue to do the right thing for all that much longer...

 

\-----

 

The rather full MAG-LEV had stopped only once on its route across the ship before Hitchcock lost her temper and overrode the controls.  The other passengers looked at her, saw how angry she was, and made no comment.  Some of them had just come off duty with her and were well aware how foul a mood she was in.

Reaching her destination, she jumped out, pushing ahead of the other passengers who wanted that stop, and ran off down the corridor, colliding with O'Neill, Ortiz, Phillips and Shan, all coming away from another successful poker game.  O'Neill spilled chips all over the floor, whilst Ortiz almost lost his favourite pack of cards.  Hitchcock just muttered an apology and raced on, leaving them looking after her in puzzlement.

"Hey," Phillips called once he thought she was out of earshot.  "If you wanted to join the game again you only had to ask..."

Hitchcock could not have cared less about the poker game.  She sped down the corridor and saw Krieg's cabin ahead of her.  Without a second thought she burst in through the door.

"Ben, the artefact!  You have to..."

She stopped, dead in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.  After their little scene earlier in the day, she had not considered for one moment that he might have had anyone in there with him.  Especially not the tall brunette who was draping herself all over him, halfway out of a long green dress and trying hard to remove what remained of her ex-husband's clothes.  Embarrassed, and temporarily thrown, she took a step back, not sure where to look.  Krieg had turned towards her.  He dropped the coffee pot he was holding and it fell to the floor with a loud crash, smashing and splattering hot coffee everywhere.  He seemed not to notice, staring at her in disbelief.  Then, slowly, he turned to look at the woman with him, and as the woman's face came into view, Katie saw why.

It was almost like looking into a mirror.  Almost, but not quite.  The woman before her was a little younger, her hair was longer, her chest too well-developed, her demeanour too compliant.

"What the hell...?"  Ben moved away from the woman, totally confused now.  He looked from one to the other.  It did not take a genius to work out which was the impostor.  "How...?"

Hitchcock had not expected this.  She had come rushing in to stop whatever defence system Lucas had activated within the artefact from attacking Ben, not this.  She had supposed his belief that she had slept with him the previous night was due to the same hallucinatory compound which Lucas had succumbed to, and been prepared to explain that to him and even forgive him for his behaviour that day.  But this was something else again.  And it meant that if this woman could exist, so could Lucas's monster.

"Ben..." She held out her hand, moving and speaking very slowly and calmly, hoping not to scare whatever it was that shared the room with them.  "Come to the door, very, very slowly..."

"Okaaay."  Gently pushing the woman away, he tried to do as he was bid, but she would not let go.  He looked across to Katie.  "What should I do?  Where did she come from?"

Katie indicated the fiercely glowing globe, now lying in his bed.  "Where do you think?  It's what attacked Lucas.  Come on, before it turns nasty.  We can talk about just why it looks so much like me later!"

For some reason, that clinched it.  Ben disentangled himself, and walked quickly over to her side.  The creature that looked so much like Katie followed, but he turned on her, angry at being fooled.

"No.  I don't want you, do you understand?  Keep away!"

The creature stared at him, the smile fading a little.  Katie found herself momentarily almost feeling sorry for it.  Ben rarely showed any bad temper towards anyone, but she could well understand his anger towards the creature in this case.  All the same, it seemed gentle, fawning, almost like a puppy.  It was raising one hand now, in a forlorn, imploring gesture.  Ben had the door open and was waiting for her to go through it, but she delayed, just a moment, wanting to reassure the creature.

"Look, we don't mean you any harm..."

The blast, coming seemingly from nowhere, hit her full in the chest.  Just for a moment she felt it lift her, saw Ben's horrified face staring at her.

And then nothing.

 

\-----


	2. Chapter 2

"Katie!"

Jonathan Ford heard Krieg's cry further down the corridor ahead of him, and broke into a run.  Hitchcock had not been hard to follow, once a shuttle had come along, and he had made good time, guessing where she had gone.  He dashed to the supply officer's cabin in time to see Krieg stagger out and drag the door shut behind him, locking it.  He was white as a sheet and sank to the ground as Ford approached, his head in his hands.

"Ben?"  Ford crouched down beside him.  "What happened?  Where's Katie?"

Krieg just shook his head, not even looking up.  "It shot her," he muttered.  "It was my fault, I shouldn't have done it."

"What?"  Ford stood up, not quite sure what Krieg was rambling about.  He looked through the portal into the supply officer's cabin.  Hitchcock was on the other side of the door, smiling back at him.  "What are you talking about?  She's in there, get out of the way so she can come out."  He moved to unlock the door, but Krieg's hand whipped up surprisingly quickly and stopped him.

"No.  It's not Katie.  It shot Katie.  Katie isn't there."

Something in the man's tone made Ford look again.  This time he noticed the clothes, the hair, the fixed smile that never quite managed to leave her face.  He did not want to believe Ben, not over this, but reluctantly he crouched down beside the man again.  "So what is it?  And where's Katie?"

"Gone.  It shot her."

Ford stood up again, to take another look into the cabin.  He could not see any body, just someone who looked remarkably like Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock wandering around on the other side of the door, looking totally spaced out.

"I can't see her."

"It shot her!" Ben repeated, "like the aliens did before.  She's gone."

Ford frowned down at him, then looked into the cabin once more.  "You're telling me that's an alien?"

"Yes!  No...I don't know.  It came from them, from the artefact I took... I don't know how..."

"The artefact you took..." Ford repeated slowly, picking up on what had happened immediately.  "A small, sphere-shaped artefact?"

"Does it matter?  Yes, it was.  It is.  It's on the bed in there.  Commander, everyone was okay when the alien shot them before, weren't they?  Katie's gonna be okay, isn't she?  I mean, they didn't kill..."

"Shut up!" Ford had seen the sphere now, still glowing to itself, and did not like the situation one bit.  He grabbed the front of Krieg's T-shirt and hauled him to his feet, shoving him back against the wall, barely controlling the urge to punch him out.  "You took something off that ship!  I can't believe even you would be that stupid!  It could have carried disease, upset the ship's systems... in fact, it probably has!  It's attacked Lucas, nearly killed him... God only knows what's happened to Katie!"  He paused for breath, about to continue with a fresh tirade when he saw all his own fears for the woman's safety reflected back ninety-fold in the eyes of the man in front of him.  Reluctantly, recognising that there was no way Krieg would have done anything on purpose to endanger his ex-wife, he let go and spoke with a calmness he did not feel.  "It's done now.  I guess the most important thing is getting her back, and keeping that thing under control.  How did you activate it?"

"You think she's alive?  She's okay?" Krieg asked urgently, ignoring the question.

"We have to assume so.  Now how did you activate that thing?  What did you do?  Concentrate, Ben, it's important."

"Yeah, I know."  The supply officer straightened, looked briefly in through his cabin window, then away again shaking his head.  "I should've seen something was wrong..."

"Never mind that now.  What did you do?"

Krieg's eyes met his own, and he could read the answer therein long before the man spoke.

"I don't know.  I just don't know..."

 

\-----

 

Lucas sat on O'Neill's bunk, watching through the open doorway as a small group stood around the door to Krieg's cabin looking in, discussing what they should do.  He felt totally vindicated, but in this instance it was not a feeling he enjoyed.  He would, for once, rather have been wrong.

O'Neill hovered in the doorway, having been called back on duty in the emergency.  He was nervous, Lucas could see that from the way that the comtech was fidgeting, but not to the extent that he would not do all he could to help when they called him to help communicate with the being.

Beyond him, Bridger, Westphalen, Levin, Ortiz, Shan and Ford were in deep discussion as to how they should tackle the creature.  Crocker watched patiently as ever, two of his men standing heavily armed at his side, waiting to be called upon to deal with whatever it was that dwelt in Krieg's quarters.  The supply officer himself stood in Crocker's shadow, leaning against the wall, watching in grim silence.

Krieg was in big trouble.

Lucas had seen Bridger angry on many occasions, but never seen the darkly cold expression of barely contained fury that settled on his features whilst Ford briefed him on what had happened to Hitchcock.  As yet, he had not vented that anger, but Lucas could see that it was only a matter of time.  He watched, as Bridger tried the door.

"Uh, Sir, I locked it," Krieg stepped forward quickly to stop him.  "In case it attacked anyone else."

"It's a pity you didn't think of that before you brought it on board!" Bridger retorted sharply.

"It looked harmless..."

"It was alien!  Who knows what dangerous looks like to them?!  It could have been their equivalent of the atom bomb, primed and ready to explode!  In fact, the way it's glowing, it could well be!  We can't get in there to find out because your little toy is drifting around in there, likely to blow any one of us to kingdom come the second we set foot over the threshold!  And all the time we're standing here, it's draining our power, getting stronger and stronger after already taking out one of the people most likely to find a way to cut that power!  If that's harmless, I'm just glad you didn't decide to take a souvenir you thought looked dangerous!"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.  Nobody noticed that Lucas had wandered over to join them, standing at O'Neill's side, until he spoke up.

"When it attacked me, I was going to take a slice out of it, see what it was made of.  I guess it thought I was attacking it, so it went for me first."

Westphalen frowned at him.  "Why didn't you tell us this before?  If you found the artefact in Ben's room..."

Levin quickly interrupted her, having studied the nature of the injuries Lucas had incurred in more depth than his colleague, the effects of the residue from the artefact in particular.  "He didn't remember, did you Lucas?  When did this come back to you?"

Lucas shrugged.  "Just now, when the captain was yelling at Ben.  It was just like it all suddenly came clear in my head!  Weird!"

"Weird indeed.  Not to mention convenient for whatever's in there,"  Westphalen commented.  "As if it were picking up our thoughts in some way and perhaps influencing them?"

"Perhaps we should move away in that case?" Ford suggested with a wary glance towards the closed door, but Levin shook his head.

"Not a good idea.  Am I right in thinking that it's not there all the time?  It vanishes?"

"It wasn't there when I went in before.  Or when I first went in the time it attacked me.  It came out of the air," Lucas told him.

"I've never actually seen it appear, but it doesn't seem to take form till I've been in there a while," Krieg added.  "And it wasn't in there when I woke up this morning."

"But it was when you went to sleep last night, I'll bet!" Ford could not stop himself putting in.  "Geez, Ben, I just hope we get Katie back, if only for the pleasure of watching her kill you!"

"That's enough, Commander," Bridger said quietly.  "Leave the recriminations until this is sorted out.  And if we get Commander Hitchcock back, I don't want to hear that anyone has made any sort of comment like that last one to her.  Is that understood?"  He looked around, and was met by a chorus of agreement.  Even Lucas nodded, secretly now rather glad that the alien had picked up on a monster from his id rather than anything more shameful that might have lurked within.  Krieg, he noticed with some admiration, was managing not to look too embarrassed about it all.  What Lucas had not grasped was that the supply officer was too worried about Katie's fate to be concerned with what anyone still on the ship thought of him.

Levin tried to pull them back onto his original track.  "What I was trying to say was that it needs someone with it all the time, to exist.  Yes, we should all move away to discuss what to do, but Ben should stay to make sure it doesn't vanish again.  I also think he should be the one to make contact with it, to go back in there.  It won't attack him, it created itself for him."

Bridger looked questioningly at the supply officer, who was already nodding agreement.

"I'll do that, Sir."

"Good.  Will it talk to you?"

"No.  I tried earlier, when I still thought it was Katie and that there was something wrong.  Not a sound.  The artefact itself hums sometimes, like it's purring or something, but that's all."

"Pity.  Okay, well go in and record that, we'll analyse it, see if we can get anything from it.  Lieutenant O'Neill."

O'Neill immediately stopped slouching against the doorframe that he had been resting on, wishing he was tucked up in bed, and stood up straight.  "Sir?"

"Set up a commlink into Supply.  I don't want anyone else going in there at this stage so pass it in to Ben.  I want you to try to communicate with the creature over the system, see if it responds.  Also play it the message we had from the ship, perhaps it can recognise that.  And most importantly get Darwin linked up, see if he can speak to it.  He's probably our best bet."

"Yessir," O'Neill gratefully made his escape, relieved that he did not have to go in there.

Bridger looked around at the others.  "Everyone else down to the Science section, well away from our guests.  Commander, Security, I need you to stay here, keep an eye on things, divert awkward questions.  Have O'Neill join us once he's ready to link up Darwin."

Lucas pouted, sulkily, wanting to stay near the creature, fascinated by it, but Westphalen took him by the shoulders and firmly turned him around, giving him a gentle push in the direction of the MAG-LEV.

"Back to bed, young man!"

Lucas stared at her in disbelief.  She had little chance of making that one stick!

 

\-----

 

Some days were better than others.

Some days you woke up, the sun was shining, and everything seemed to be right in the world.  You could fall in a sewage tank and still come up smelling like roses.  Then there were the other days...

Ben Krieg had spent most of the day on cloud nine, happier with the way his life was going than he could remember being for a very long time.  Then suddenly someone had pulled the rug out from beneath him and everything had started to go wrong.  It all made sense to him now, the contradictory way that Katie had behaved towards him.  Even when she was herself, she had been as much under the influence of the alien relic as he had been himself.  If... when... they got her back, she would tear strips off him for this one, he knew.  Knew, but did not care, just so long as they got her back.

"You ready?"

He looked around into the dark eyes of his immediate commanding officer.  Sometimes they worked well together.  Most times Krieg managed to do something to irritate the commander, such as breathing, and so tried to keep out of the man's way.  Until this was over, he knew they would be solid as a rock.  Once Hitchcock was back and the alien was subdued, all would be as before.  He nodded, and Ford unlocked the door.

It was difficult, as he stepped inside his room and heard the door close quickly behind him, not to let the anger he felt towards the creature in front of him bubble over.  Already, he could see, it sensed something was wrong, moving towards him then stopping, hesitant.  

Very, very carefully, Ben placed the commlink on a table, and sat down in front of it, his eyes never leaving those of the creature.  He pulled out another chair, and patted it.

"You wanna sit down?  C'mon, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The creature took a hesitant step forward, then another, like a shy child.  It really was quite disconcerting to watch, looking so much like his ex-wife, yet made it easier to control the anger he felt towards it.  He patted the seat of the chair again, but could not find it in him to go into cheery morale officer mode after what had happened.

"Come on, sit down."

It sat, moving the chair closer to him as it did so.  Krieg immediately switched on the comlink, then pointed to it, trying to explain.

"Do you speak?  We want you to talk to us, tell us what you did to Katie.  Where is she?  Can you get her back?"

The creature blinked at him slowly, lazily, then began to raise one arm languidly in his direction.  Nervously, Krieg glanced towards the door and saw Ford watching in alarm.  Krieg's hand instantly closed over the comlink, apprehensive but aware that if the alien did shoot him he could still call for help if he had the comlink, no matter where it dropped him.  He tensed, waiting.  So much for the ultimate stress reducer.

But the creature did not fire.  It was reaching for him, stroking his face, fawning against him.  He caught a glimpse of Ford's disgusted face framed in the doorway, then carefully pushed the creature away.

"No, I want you to talk.  Can you talk?  Can you speak?  Do you understand me?"

It smiled.  Katie's face smiled.  But that was all the response he got, there was no flicker of comprehension there.  Shuffling back to a more comfortable distance, he tried again.

"Listen to this," he requested, pointing at the comlink.  "Tim and the dolphin're gonna talk to you, see if you understand them.  All we want is Katie back.  No-one's gonna hurt you."

In reality, he had no idea what fate Bridger had planned for the creature, and at that point he did not particularly care.  If the captain wanted to chop it up into little pieces and feed it to the fishes that was fine by him, just so long as they got Katie back first.  Katie, he knew, was never, ever going to speak to him again after this.  So much for a second chance.

The creature looked down at the commlink, and for a moment he thought he was getting somewhere.  But it had focused on his hand, not the comlink and even as he opened his mouth to continue it gently lifted his hand and placed it squarely on the centre of its chest.  Tim's voice was coming clearly down the comlink now, but the creature totally ignored him, its concentration aimed solely at Ben.

 

\-----

 

Outside, from the safety of the corridor, Ford watched silently as Krieg tried again and again to get the creature to concentrate on Tim's voice, all to no avail.  Darwin had been called, but had not yet responded, so it was temporarily all down to the communications officer.  Darwin, they knew, was their best bet, but he had only gone out to feed a short time before and was not likely to rush back.  Katie, he told himself, was going to be okay, none of the others who had been shot had been hurt, in fact many had been returned in a far healthier state than they had been in when they vanished.  Knowing that did not stop him worrying though.  This creature was not the same as the one they had encountered, there was no telling what it might have done with her.

The creature was fawning over Ben again, and he saw the supply officer push it away.  At his side, Crocker nodded wisely, watching the scene.

"Y'know what I reckon, Commander?"

Ford was not at all sure that he wanted to.  Chief Crocker had the ability to say and do things that often totally threw the young commander.  Sometimes he wondered if the ageing security chief really belonged on the UEO's ultra-modern flagship.  But he was popular, and good at his job, and weighed against that his apparent eccentricities were as nothing.  Bracing himself for whatever might come out, he asked:

"What?"

"I reckon the lieutenant picked up someone's pet."

"What?" Ford looked at Crocker in surprise.  "A pet?"

"Sure," Crocker nodded sagely.  "That thing in there is some sort of high-tech pet.  See, the doc said its fixed onto Ben's thoughts or something, right?"

"Or something is right!  Yeah, that's what he said."

"Right.  It's security dog an' plaything all in one!  Whatever you want!"

Ford frowned, thinking about it.  He had to admit, the old sea dog had a point.  "You could be right!  And it thinks Ben's its new owner!"  He looked in through the window again, and almost smiled at the sight of the supply officer trying to fight off the over-eager creature.  "If it wasn't for Katie, I'd say it served him right!"

"Some of us would say that anyway," Crocker muttered with feeling.  Ford shot him a look, and he added quickly: "I'm sure the commander's gonna be okay, Sir."

"Let's hope so."

As he radioed the captain to give him an update and pass on Crocker's theory, a fresh worry entered his mind.  If Crocker was right and they were dealing with the alien equivalent of a rottweiller, how were they ever going to communicate with it and obtain Hitchcock's release?

 

\-----

 

Krieg was getting nowhere.

The creature would not listen to Tim, and even recordings of Darwin's clicks and whistles had no effect.  They had played back the aliens' own messages to it, but there was no response.  The creature was only interested in fawning around him like a lovesick calf, and he was getting heartily fed up with it.

"Ben."

Commander Ford had slipped quietly into the room unnoticed.  The creature tightened its grip around Krieg possessively and watched Ford with concern.  Krieg tried to stand up and push the creature away, but Ford stopped him.

"No, no, let her stay," he insisted calmly.  "We don't want to upset her, do we?"  He began to walk towards them very carefully, forcing himself to smile warmly at the apprehensive alien.  "Hi there!  You mind if I come and sit with you for a while?"

The alien did not respond, merely watched him warily as he came up to them and crouched down beside them.  Krieg, he was relieved to note, had the sense not to question what he was doing in front of the creature.  Carefully, he reached out and pushed back the lock of hair that had fallen over Katie's double's eyes.  "There now, that's better, isn't it?"  The creature blinked at him, some of the suspicion fading.  He decided to risk it further, and sat upon the chair she had vacated, reaching over and stroking her bare arm.  "Why don't you come and sit up here with me, honey, hmm?"

It would not move at once.  It took several minutes of cooing and cajoling on both his and a dubious Ben's part before the creature felt it was able to settle itself comfortably on his lap.  Jonathan tried to ignore the slightly suspicious look Krieg was giving him, and concentrated on the job Bridger and Westphalen had decided he should go in there and do - namely befriending Ben's 'pet'.  The task was making him feel slightly nauseous.

"So," he kept smiling at it, her, stroking her hair.  "Where's Ben been hiding you then?"

He did not expect an answer, and was surprised when she pointed towards the chest of drawers that the artefact had been stashed in.  A quick glance at the supply officer told him that this was a fact, and he continued.

"In there?  That wasn't very nice of him!  You should be out on display all the time, so that everyone can see you!  Everyone would like you, as long as you don't hurt anyone else.  You haven't actually hurt Commander Hitchcock, have you?  I mean, you could just bring her back if you wanted to, couldn't you?"

The creature looked at him silently.  Then, slowly, it nodded.

"Then do it!" Krieg exploded in a burst of fury, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking hard.  "She didn't do anything to you, there was no need..."

"Ben," Ford tried to keep his voice even as Westphalen had advised.  "Let her go.  We want her to help us, now don't we?"

Krieg obeyed, sitting back down in his chair with a very heavy sigh of barely contained anger.  Ford turned his attention back to the creature.

"We'd like her back, she's an important part of the crew.  Why don't you make yourself look like someone else, so that it won't matter?  Can you do that?  I'd love to see you change into someone else.  Everyone would like you more if you looked like someone else.  And if you brought Katie back..."

She seemed to think about it for a moment, which silenced any doubts that she was a sentient being, but then shook her head.  Ford saw that Krieg was about to lose his cool again, and quickly silenced him by asking him to fetch the artefact.  Then he turned his attention straight back to the alien.

"Okay, if you don't want to do it right now, that's okay.  But she was our friend, we'd like her to be here with us again."  Ben came back with the little globe and held it out.  Gingerly, remembering what had happened to Lucas, Ford took it from him.  It felt warm to the touch, and was glowing fiercely, but it did not burn him.  He held it in front of the alien's face.

"I have this now.  Don't be frightened, I won't hurt you.  I have to take it.  Ben's mad at you for what you've done to Katie.  He may try to damage it and harm you if I leave it here.  Do you understand?"

The creature looked up at Krieg mournfully, her eyes filling with tears.  Still not quite sure what Ford was trying to achieve, he went along with it and turned his back on her, unable to do more whilst Katie's double was gazing at him like that.

"You see?  Don't worry, I'll look after you.  Everything'll be okay.  Maybe you'd like to free Katie now?"

She shook her head again, less certainly this time.

"Okay.  Now, I want to take you down to the Science section so that the doctors can talk to you.  Would that be okay?  Would you like that?  They don't want to hurt you, just to talk to you like I am.  Will you come with me?"  He held his breath, mentally crossing his fingers, wanting very much to pass the job of talking calmly to this creature over to Doctor Westphalen as soon as possible.  It was not in his nature, and his basic instinct was to react with as much, if not more anger than Krieg had done.  But he hid that, keeping the smile on his face which felt stale to him now, and stroking her back reassuringly.

Uncertainly, she stood up and took his hand.  Still she did not speak.  He did not believe that she could.  He had heard the soft humming that Ben had described, and doubted that it would translate into any sort of speech.  Still, that was for the doctors to find out.  His job was just to get her safely down to the Science deck without arousing too much suspicion.  Standing beside her, he appraised her critically.  The dress that she had half-escaped from was going to attract attention, even if he managed to persuade her to keep it on it was a far cry from Hitchcock’s normal garb.  Only one thing for it.  He spoke into the comlink:

"Tim?  You still there?  I need a favour..."

 

\-----

 

Doctor Levin sat at his desk surrounded by the mess that had gathered there, gazing at the images coming up on his monitor from the microscope in his computer.  It was scanning the sphere Ford had retrieved from Krieg's cabin.  The creature had been very reluctant to let him study it, but once Ford had persuaded her that no-one, not even Krieg, was really going to damage it she reluctantly agreed.

He stole a glance across at her now, curious.  She looked much like Commander Hitchcock, with subtle differences which were mostly lost under the too-big uniform that she now wore.  Anyone who looked closely would notice that the jump-suit belonged to Tim O'Neill, but it was not so oversized that anyone would look twice.  Ford and Krieg, he knew, had found it difficult to get her down to them without anyone noticing anything was amiss.  Even now she was clinging to Ford's arm, and Levin knew the seaQuest rumour system worked well enough that it would be the talk of the ship by the morning.

It was mechanical, the sphere, but of such a sophisticated mechanism that he could only begin to guess at its workings.  He freely admitted that he had no idea how it had projected the creature that stood before them, and doubted that anyone else would do any better.  Certainly it was the cause of the power drain on the ship.  Discrete enquiries had revealed that at the point Hitchcock had vanished there had been a massive drain on the system.

Beside him, leaning over his shoulder, Scott Keller was totally fascinated by the readings the computer was giving them.

"Hey Nathan," he called across to his old friend, unable to contain his enthusiasm.  "You still think chasing dolphins is more exciting than this?"

Bridger and Westphalen turned as one in disapproval, but it was Bridger who put their expressions into words.  "My dolphin," he told Keller pointedly, "Doesn't shoot members of my crew, or try to suffocate them.  And he's a damned sight more communicative than your little project!"

"She was afraid, she lashed out.  Natural defensive reaction.  She's okay now."

Bridger was not so sure.  He had kept the personnel in their area of the Science bay down to a bare minimum, and left strict orders that under no circumstances were Doctor Joseph and her team to be allowed anywhere near the area.  Aside from Ford, Krieg and himself, the only non-scientific personnel in the area were O'Neill, Crocker and Ortiz. 

"I doubt Commander Hitchcock shares your opinion, Scott."

"Nathan," there was an amount of relief in Westphalen's voice as she saw a valid way of distracting him from his brewing argument.  "Look."

They all followed her gaze, and saw Darwin gliding into his pool.  Sensing their attention, the dolphin swam up to the edge, lay his head over the side, and sang happily.

There was a dash for the translator.  Bridger just reached it first, and activated it.

_«...Bridger!»_

"Yes, hello Darwin," Bridger replied, hoping that it was the correct response to whatever the dolphin had said.  "Darwin..."

_«Lucas better?  Lucas swim?»_

"Lucas is fine.  He's resting now.  He'll see you tomorrow."

Darwin waggled his tail excitedly.  _«Bridger swim!»_

"Not now.  Darwin, we need you to help again."

Ford had brought the creature up to the pool, Crocker following close behind.  They had agreed that there would be no weapons on show, but as security chief he still felt very strongly that his place was to keep a careful watch on the unknown entity.  They all stood around Bridger whilst he talked to the dolphin, Ford, Crocker and the alien on one side, O'Neill, Ortiz and Krieg on the other.  It was not accidental, the communications officer had taken one look at the strain starting to show in Ben's face when he arrived in the labs, and went straight over to offer moral support.  Ortiz had quickly followed suit, and the pair of them flanked the supply officer now like an honour guard.  Neither, however, knew quite what to say to him.  They could not even reassure him that Hitchcock was going to be all right, and that it was not his fault, because they had no way of knowing, and it  was.  But Darwin caught sight of the alien at that moment, and splashed agitatedly.

_«Bad shining!  Hurt Lucas!»_

"Yes, yes," Bridger stroked Darwin's head, trying to soothe him.  "We know.  We need you to try to talk to it for us."

_«Bad.»_

"It wants to help," Bridger hoped that he was speaking the truth.  "We need to ask it to free Commander Hitchcock.  Tell it we won't hurt it."

_«No.  Hurt Lucas!»_

Bridger sighed, sensing that this was going to be a long and difficult process.  "Tell it we won't harm it, Darwin.  Ask it to speak to us."

Darwin considered it for a moment, then emitted a stream of whistles and clicks, singing for the creature.  Bridger turned the translator off momentarily so that it would not drown out the sound.

"It does understand us, Captain," Ford hissed at him, but Bridger shushed him.

"We need it to communicate back, Commander."

The creature moved up to the side of the pool.  She reached in towards the dolphin, but Darwin shied away.  Instead, she turned to Bridger and put her hand to her mouth, then shook her head.

"Great, she can't speak," O'Neill muttered with feeling.

The creature looked at him, then back at the dolphin, then at Ford.  She gestured towards her mouth again, then down at Darwin.

"Does she mean she speaks the same language as Darwin?"  Westphalen wondered, sliding up beside Bridger.

Bridger watched the gesture again.  The creature seemed to be reaching for Darwin each time, whilst the dolphin backed away.  She looked despairingly to Ford, and changed the gesture slightly, indicating more of a channelling between herself and the dolphin.

"Not the same...through him!" Bridger exclaimed, suddenly realising.  "It's trying to tell us it can speak through Darwin!"  He was rewarded by a charming smile from the alien, who then reached for the dolphin once more.

"Darwin," Bridger stroked the dolphin's head, trying to calm him.  Darwin did not like the way the alien was reaching for him at all.  "Let it touch you.  We need to be able to talk to it."

Krieg leaned over the side of the pool, and added: "Please, Darwin, do it for Katie."

_«Katie lost?  Bad shining hurt?»_

Bridger bit his lip, wondering if Darwin meant the alien would hurt him, or was injured itself, or had already hurt Hitchcock.  With Darwin it was often difficult to tell exactly what he meant, and even if they managed to communicate with the alien through him that level of ambiguity would still exist.  He went for the first option: "No, it doesn't want to hurt you.  It wants to talk, to be friends."  He paused, knowing that if he was wrong, if the creature proved aggressive after all, he could never again expect Darwin to obey his next request: "Trust me, Darwin."

The dolphin flipped his tail, turned, and swam under the creature's outstretched arm, blowing at it.

_«Darwin trust Bridger.»_

There were some concepts unique to humans, and others unique to dolphins, and that was often where the communications problems arose.  But trust was something they both understood.  Bridger silently prayed that Darwin's would not be misplaced.  He caught his breath as the creature placed its hand on the dolphin's melon.  But Darwin did not appear to be in any distress, and he released it with a sigh.

"He's okay, Nathan," Westphalen whispered, understanding, sliding her arm through his and giving him a reassuring squeeze.  "I think Scott's right, it never meant to hurt anyone.  It thought Lucas was attacking it so it defended itself.  And Katie threatened its existence in other ways.  This'll be fine."

Bridger wished that he shared her confidence.  But it was enough to have her there beside him.  He stood, watching, unable to do anything until Darwin made contact.  The humming from the creature had increased in volume, but not to a great degree.  Darwin hovered by the edge of the pool, apparently listening with an intensity only normally reserved for the offer of food.

"What's she doing?" he heard Ortiz whisper, and heard O'Neill shush him firmly.  Once, when the dolphin had been sick, the communications officer had picked up on it.  Bridger had picked it up too, but Tim's link had been stronger.  He looked around to see if he were picking anything up now, but the bespectacled lieutenant was watching as curiously as the rest of them.

Finally, the alien turned to look at them, still in contact with Darwin.  The dolphin squeaked and clicked at Bridger urgently, and the captain quickly switched the translator back on.

_«No speak.  Broken.»_

The creature gestured towards its mouth, and shook its head.  Bridger nodded.

"Okay, we got that much.  What did it tell you?  Where's Commander Hitchcock and how do we get her back?"

_«Broken.»_

"What do you mean, broken?!" Krieg demanded.  Ortiz and O'Neill immediately grabbed him as he moved towards the alien, not wanting a repeat performance of what had happened to Katie and Lucas, but they had trouble holding him back.  "D'you mean Katie?  Did you kill her?!  If you've harmed..."

"Lieutenant!" Bridger snapped, turning on him impatiently.  "Our aim here is to find the commander.  If you want to help, you can stay and control yourself.  If you don't, then leave.  Which is it?"

Krieg glared furiously at the creature, then took a deep, shaky breath and forced himself to look steadily at Bridger.  "Stay."

"Okay."  Bridger held his gaze for a moment longer, to assure himself that the officer was not going to let him down over this and to let Krieg know that such a let-down would not be tolerated, then turned back to Darwin.  "Darwin, what does it mean by 'broken'?  Is Commander Hitchcock hurt?"

_«Pod gone.  No go home.»_

"I think he means the ship," Westphalen translated.  "The creature is alone, it can't get home."

_«No.  Katie no go home.»_

Bridger heard Krieg swear under his breath, but left it, understanding the sentiment.  He looked to the creature this time, hoping that they were misunderstanding this.  "Are you telling us that you can't get her back?  That you can't set her free?"

_«Can be free.  Not to seaQuest.  Need pod.  Pod gone.  Guide broken.»_

"Where can you send her, then?"

_«Not know where.»_

"But it would be on Earth?  And not under the water?"

The creature nodded, slowly.

"And we can't mend whatever it is that's broken?"

_«No mend.  Too old.  Broken.  Free Katie now?»_

Bridger looked around, wishing that he did not have to be the one to make this particular decision.  Westphalen and Keller both nodded agreement.  He trusted her judgement implicitly, and although he was often loathe to admit it he also trusted Keller's.  Ford and Crocker looked less certain.

"Captain, if part of it's already broken, we should have it free her before anything else goes wrong," Levin put in, and there were murmurs of agreement.   

Bridger sighed heavily, knowing what it meant if this was wrong.  "Put like that we don't have a lot of choice, do we?  Anyone disagree?"  He looked around, his gaze finally falling on Krieg.  "Anyone at all?"

The supply officer looked away, shaking his head.  Bridger turned his attention back to the waiting dolphin.

"Darwin, tell it to free her."  The dolphin obeyed, and Bridger turned to O'Neill and Ortiz.

"I know you've had a long day, and you're off-duty..."

Ortiz raised a hand, knowing what was coming, and not needing to be asked.  "Sir, if you want me back at my station that's no problem."

"That goes for me too," O'Neill added quickly.

"Thank you.  Scan for anything, anything at all."  He paused, having been about to ask Ford to go with them.  But the commander was effectively tied to the alien now.  Krieg was in no fit state to go, and had difficulty commanding the respect necessary to take the Bridge at the best of times, which only left one option. "I'll join you shortly."

The two submariners took that as a dismissal.  O'Neill turned to Krieg, resting a sympathetic hand on the supply officer's shoulder.  "You coming, Ben?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Westphalen put in quickly, moving around Bridger to stop Krieg leaving.  "You two run along now."

O'Neill and Ortiz obeyed, raising their eyebrows at one another at being told to 'run along'.  The Cuban slapped Krieg on the back, knowing him well enough and long enough not to be fooled by his frequent avowals that his feelings for their chief engineer had died along with their marriage, and well aware that what had happened was tearing him apart.  "You know where we are, Ben," he whispered, before hastening in the direction of the MAG-LEV.  Krieg nodded briefly, distractedly, his focus remaining on the dolphin.

"Darwin," he asked, "Did it free Katie?"

The others leaned in closer, eager to know the answer.  The dolphin splashed impatiently.

_«Yes, free Katie.»_

"Does it know where she is now?" Bridger asked, glancing apprehensively at the figure of the alien, who was still hanging itself all over the long-suffering Ford.

_«Free.  Not here.»_

"I guess that's a no," Levin muttered.  Krieg turned on him angrily.

"You don't have to underline it!  We can all hear..."

"Lieutenant!" Bridger said sharply, before fraying tempers got too hot to handle.  "I've already warned you once!  Out!"

Krieg stared despondently at the alien.  "I just want Katie back."

"We all do.  Let's try to accomplish that without tearing each other to pieces in the process, shall we?" Westphalen told him gently.  "We've already seen that our little friend here doesn't react well to aggression, so let's try to keep very calm.  I suggest you come with me and take a lie down in Medbay for a while.  I can give you something to help you sleep."

Krieg refused that.  "I can't sleep while she's out there somewhere, maybe in trouble, all because I screwed up."

"Well come along anyway.  We can't do anything here, and I have to check on Lucas."  She exchanged a worried glance with Bridger which Krieg totally missed, lost as he was in his own thoughts.  He followed her obediently out of the room without argument, and Bridger wondered if the man was even vaguely aware of what he was doing.  Westphalen, on the other hand, had purposefully given them a breathing space.  They could now ask the creature whatever they wanted, without the concern over Hitchcock's distraught ex-husband's reaction.

"Okay," Keller took the translator from Levin.  "Darwin, ask your little friend what she is, where she comes from.  I'd like to know how come she can appear from that little ball over there!"

Bridger threw him a stern look for his insensitivity, but Keller took no notice at all.  The captain was disappointed to note that Levin looked just as fascinated as Keller did.

Great.  I lose my chief engineer and all those two care about are little green men!

_«From ship.  Ship gone.»_

"Yes, but before that.  Was she from the same place as the other aliens, or somewhere else?  And what is she?"

_«Companion.  Friend.  Shining build.»_

"Are you saying that the aliens created this creature?" Bridger asked, interested himself despite his worries over Hitchcock's fate.  "They built it to provide companionship, like a pet?"

_«Pet, yes!  Always pod.»_

Crocker nodded to himself, rather pleased that he had come up with that solution already.  So much for all their science degrees.  Just need to own a dog for a while, that's all it takes...

"This is fantastic!" Keller exclaimed.  "It changed, didn't it?  It protected itself against Lucas and became one thing, but for Ben it became something totally different!  It's like the ultimate companion for long voyages!  Wow!"  He looked around at them all, unable to conceal his wonder and delight, and not even attempting to.  "This could revolutionise space travel!  If we could develop something to relieve the monotony of long-term flight like this...  And that's what they've done!  It's incredible!"  He gazed at the creature in total awe.  "Fantastic..."

Bridger pursed his lips, rather less enthusiastic.  "Let's concentrate on retrieving our commander first, Scott."  He took the vo-coder back.  "Darwin,  does it have any idea at all where Katie could be?"

_«Guide gone.  Shining try seaQuest.»_

"Woah," Ford took that in and instantly saw the implications.  They were not good.  "She aimed to get Katie back on seaQuest, is that what he's saying?  If she tried that, and failed, then Katie could be in the water right now!  If she's stuck out in the middle of the ocean, with no lifejacket, and no way of contacting us..."  He did not bother to finish.  They all knew what it meant.

A slightly sick feeling starting to twist its way through his stomach, Bridger spoke to the dolphin again.  "Darwin.  Is Katie in the water?"

The dolphin sang briefly to the creature, then:  « _Katie in water.  Not seaQuest water.»_

                                                                                                                      

"Well which water?  Where?"

_«No guide.  Cannot tell.»_

Bridger and Ford shared one long, horrified look.  Then Bridger was away, across the room, pounding his fist down on the intercom button on the wall.

"Chief Ortiz!  Now!"

A moment later, Ortiz's breathless but concerned voice filled the room, he and O'Neill having both been running from the MAG-LEV to their stations when they heard the call.  "Sir?"

"It's dropped Hitchcock off somewhere in the ocean!  It doesn't even know which damned one!  Turn every system over to searching for her, she could be anywhere."

"That'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack!" Ortiz could not stop himself replying.

"I think that would be easier," Bridger growled back.  "Just get started, I'll be up in a moment."

"Yessir."

Bridger broke the link and looked around at the little group still gathered there.  Even Scott Keller no longer looked all that enthusiastic.  Crocker's lined face was creased with concern, whilst Ford was doing his best to remain calm.  The captain knew better, however, he and Hitchcock were friends from way back, and this would hit him hard.

"I'm going up to the Bridge," he told them quietly, coming back to the poolside.  "On the way I'll fill Kristen in on what's happened.  Jonathan," The dark-skinned XO's head came up sharply. "You take charge down here.  See if any of you can get any more sense out of Rover there, and let me know if you do.  Darwin," the dolphin squeaked at him in response.  "Keep talking to the creature."  He stroked the dolphin's nose.  "Katie will die if we don't find her soon."

_«Darwin find?»_

"Maybe later.  For now, I want you to keep talking."  He released the dolphin, and straightened, addressing the others.  "Do your best."

Hurrying out of the door, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten.  He knew that the chances now of finding her at all, much less of finding her alive, were negligible.  Still, they had to try.

 

\-----

 

Lucas was curled up on his bed in Medbay, trying to look as if he were asleep, when Westphalen and Krieg came in.  The teenager was still in a great deal of discomfort after his ordeal, and all the moving around earlier had not done him any good at all.  Worse than that, he felt responsible in part for what had happened, feeling that if he had not opened his mouth, or if he had remembered what had happened earlier, Hitchcock would not have ever been shot and everything would be okay.

He had been left in peace for an hour or so, with only one nurse looking in occasionally then going away again when she saw that he was apparently asleep.  But when he saw Westphalen and Krieg in the room outside, he got up and walked across to sit beside the door and listen to what they were saying, knowing that he was only likely to be given the edited-down version.  He was disappointed, however, quickly finding that their conversation was extremely one-sided, and mainly composed of Westphalen trying to persuade Krieg to take something to help him sleep, and telling him not to keep blaming himself.  That part did not go down too well, as Krieg soon pointed out that the incident was his fault, and Westphalen was evidently having difficulty finding any way of arguing that it was not.

Lucas liked Krieg, despite everything the nefarious supply officer was always there to talk to him, and good-naturedly allowed him to get away with comments which directed at any other officer on the ship would have earned Lucas an extended stay in his quarters.  He was also a lot of fun most of the time, and despite all Krieg's professed overwhelming self-interest, Lucas had noticed another side to the man at times when it mattered.  Not wanting to listen to any more, the teenager crept back to his bunk, aware from the painful twinge in his midriff that he was overdoing it.

A few moments later, the door opened properly, and Krieg came in, Westphalen following.  She was whispering, supposing Lucas to be asleep, but he could hear her telling Ben to take the capsules she had given him, and promising to wake him if there was any news.  Then she left, closing the door, and there was silence.

Krieg, Lucas noted, dropped the tablets down the side of the bed, believing himself unobserved.  He took a sip of the water Westphalen had given him, then lay, fully dressed, on the bunk opposite Lucas's.  He was staring up at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head, not even attempting to go to sleep.

Outside, Lucas saw Westphalen get up, distracted, and go over to the door to speak to someone.  He looked across at Ben, wishing he could think of something to say to make the man feel better somehow, but there was nothing.  And as he watched, a single tear made its way slowly down the side of Ben's face.

Oh shit.

Embarrassed, and wishing that he was not seeing this, the teenager quickly looked away, turning his attention back to Westphalen.  She was coming back now, with the captain.  Both looked very straight, very serious, and Bridger was talking quietly to her.  Suddenly Westphalen's hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes widened in shock.  Lucas caught his breath, sure that it must mean that Hitchcock had been killed.  He risked another look at Krieg.  The man had not noticed them yet, still staring sightlessly at the ceiling.  When Lucas looked out at the doctor again, he saw the captain catch her up in a warm, supportive embrace.

Secretly, Lucas believed that Bridger and Westphalen made a handsome couple and should get together as soon as possible instead of constantly worrying about their respective positions aboard the boat and what everyone thought.  Apart from anything else, it might help the captain to get over his wife's death.  Lucas found it often quite maudlin to go into the captain's quarters and find Bridger there watching a silent, almost motionless hologram of his dead wife smiling at him from the past.  He was working on a special present for the captain that would go some way towards alleviating that, but he believed that Kristen Westphalen would be a much better option.  Still, he could not tell the captain that.  The man was, after all, old enough to work these things out for himself!

Krieg chose that moment to sit up in bed and reach for the water again.  But as he turned, he saw Lucas staring at him, then saw the boy's eyes flicker nervously between him and Bridger.  Following his gaze, Krieg saw the fear on both Bridger and Westphalen's faces as they partially broke away from one another, and he came to the same conclusion that Lucas had.

"Katie..."

Lucas watched in dismay as the man jumped to his feet and hurtled to the door, flinging it open and demanding of Bridger as if he were a junior ensign rather than the captain:

"What's happened?"

Westphalen turned her worried face towards him, then quickly tried to guide him towards the nearest chair.  Krieg was having none of it, and pushed her away.

"Just tell me!"

"Okay."  She paused, catching sight of Lucas peering worriedly at them all, and called him out, knowing that there was no way that he would stay in his bed until he knew the truth anyway.  "Nathan?"

Bridger sighed, hating having to be the bearer of bad tidings.  "The creature's told us it released Commander Hitchcock into the ocean.  It has no idea where, or even which ocean.  We're doing everything we can to find her."

Lucas paled, realising the implications.  "Can I help?  With the computer?" He winced as another spasm briefly shot through his body, caused by the effort of walking.

"I think that answers your question, young man," Bridger told him gently.  "Get some rest.  There's nothing you can do."

Lucas looked at Krieg.  The man looked terrible, pale and drawn, the stress of the situation working on him.  "Katie was exhausted," he told them, his voice little more than a whisper.  "Really, really tired.  Crocker and the others, they were okay, it refreshed them.  But that thing was broken, it might not have worked... She couldn't stay afloat for long like that..."

That was all that Lucas got to hear.  Westphalen bustled him back to his bunk rather quickly, and shut the door.  Later she would come back in and sit with him, but for now she was sitting outside with the two men.  And Lucas could see Ben's shoulders starting to shake...

Lucas felt sick to the pit of his stomach with an unnameable fear.  He wanted to get up, to do something to help, but there was nothing he could do in his current weakened state.  So he lay there, thinking about Hitchcock.

_If you don't make it, Commander, I guess we could call it a Gazelle after all..._

 

\-----

 

The sea water was a shock.

One moment she had been standing in Ben's cabin, trying to talk to the strange creature he had in there, that looked so much like she did, the next she was somewhere else.  And that somewhere else was the middle of the ocean.

Shan had explained to her, briefly, what being shot by the alien had been like, but she had not really listened, having had most of her concentration at that moment directed towards the winning hand she was holding.  Katie could remember him saying that he felt invigorated afterwards, but had not envisioned a change as drastic as this.  She had been completely exhausted, tired out after several very long days, and virtually asleep on her feet.  But somehow, the change had revitalised her, she felt fresh as a daisy.  Which was really just as well.

Quickly, she struggled out of her uniform coverall, kicking off her shoes as she did so.  She lost the cap, but managed to make a temporary float out of the jump-suit, capturing air in it and tying the ends up.  Leaning on that and barely treading water, she looked around her, trying to take in what had happened.

She had emerged into bright sunlight, which boded fairly well.  Although it had been night on the seaQuest, the ship's internal clock was regularly different from the area it was travelling through, and she knew that when she last checked they were almost eight hours behind.  The water felt cold to her, but she knew that was mostly the shock of being newly-immersed in it.  For sea water it was not so bad.  Still, she did not want to have to spend too long floating there.  Kicking slowly, she turned a full circle, surveying her options.

All around, as far as the eye could see, was blue.  The sea stretched out ahead of her in all directions, flat and uncompromising, ending only on the horizon, where it merged with the paler blue of the cloudless sky that arched over her head to meet the ocean at a point equally far behind her.

There was nothing, anywhere, to strike out for.  Not even the faintest sign of a ship, or land, or even a buoy cast adrift.

Hitchcock drifted, clinging to her makeshift float, realising the futility of wasting her energy trying to swim in any direction.  Instead, she waited, knowing that they would be searching for her soon, and trusting that they would know where to look.

She tried not to wonder why she had not re-emerged on the seaQuest in the same way that all of the other alien's victims had done.

The sun's heat beat down on her mercilessly.  But it was low in the sky, and she estimated that she only had a few hours before it went down.  Hitchcock knew that she could stay afloat until then.  She also knew that without the sun it was going to get very cold, very quickly.

She clung tighter to her float.

 

\-----

           

Ford and Crocker were beginning to feel a little redundant.  They were both perched on the edge of Darwin's pool, watching whilst Keller and Levin endlessly questioned the creature via the dolphin.

Keller and Levin reminded Ford vaguely of children in a toyshop.  He wondered how much longer Darwin would tolerate it.  Contrary to popular belief, the ever-smiling dolphin was not always the most patient of creatures and Ford suspected that he had only suffered them this long because Bridger had told him Hitchcock was in danger.

The questions were straying away from Hitchcock's situation though, and Darwin was getting restless.  He was not the only one.

Ford sat regarding the creature thoughtfully.  There had been another increase to their power drain when it freed Hitchcock, and that worried him.  In theory it should mean that the alien was getting stronger, more powerful.  But instead, the effort seemed to have weakened it if anything.  Once or twice since, it had appeared to stop, dead still, and begin to fade very faintly.  It answered their questions, through Darwin, as best it could, but would not or could not tell them what was happening to it.  Darwin's translation relied on his understanding of what he was being told, and then on the capabilities of his translator.  It was a marvellous invention by a brilliant young mind, but it had never been intended for this level of use.

Ford wanted to get back to the Bridge, to help with the search for his friend.  He guessed that by now EVA control would have been informed of the situation and virtually all of the ship's craft would be being sent out to search.  He wanted to be out, in one of those craft, or back on the Bridge directing them all.  Not sitting down here doing nothing.

"There you are!"

He recognised the furious voice immediately, even before the angry doctor stormed through the doorway and stomped up to him.  He had all but forgotten about Doctor Joseph and her colleagues, and now his heart sank even further.  He hoped that Keller and Levin would have the sense to switch Darwin's translator off and keep both the dolphin and the alien quiet.

"What's the matter now, Doctor?"

Joseph glared at him, seeing him still leaning against the side of the pool quite casually to her eye.  She did not appear to consider that he had been up since the ship's equivalent of the crack of dawn, nor that as second-in-command of the UEO flagship his workload might extend beyond herself.  "Your man is asleep outside our lab!  Asleep!  Not that I was surprised when I checked his I.D.!  A junior grade lieutenant!  Junior grade!  When I was assigned to this ship I was assured we would have the best possible support!  And what do I get?  An unconscious junior!"

Ford took a deep, steadying breath, knowing that he could not afford to antagonise the woman further in case she discovered the truth now, but finding it very hard not to fly at her in a rage.  Katie was lost to them, somewhere, anywhere, in the vast blue oceans of the world, struggling for her life, and this woman was bothering him with the rank of her unnecessary aide.

"He'll be reprimanded for sleeping on duty, I can assure you.  Come with me, I'll assign you someone else."  He moved towards the door, but she did not follow, noticing what they had been doing.

"Is this the talking dolphin?" she asked, striding across to the pool.  She directed her question at what she believed was Hitchcock, but Keller quickly intercepted it.

"That's right.  What, are you thinking of interviewing him now?!"  The astronaut grinned, and patted Darwin gently on the nose.  Joseph glowered at him.

"Actually Commander, that's not a bad idea.  Animals can sense things that we can miss altogether.  Did he leave the boat whilst the alien ship was there?"

"No." Ford and Keller answered simultaneously.  Joseph narrowed her eyes suspiciously, picking up on the tension.

"Maybe I should ask him myself."  She held out her hand to Levin expectantly.  "Give me the translator."

Levin raised an eyebrow at her ill-mannered method of asking, then shook his head.  "Sorry.  Like you say, animals pick up on things.  Right now you're pretty angry, and Darwin doesn't like that.  Go and relax for an hour, then come back.  You'll get a much better response from him if he senses you're calm."

Joseph considered that for a moment, then turned again to the alien for an answer, innocently believing that the apparent woman would give her more sense than the men.

"Why do I feel as if I'm being pushed out here?"  There was, of course, no response and this time it was Ford who attempted to cover it.

"Doctor, we aren't pushing you out.  It's a fact that Darwin doesn't like talking to aggressive strangers.  Would you?"

"No, but there's something more here." She turned again to the creature.  "Don't you have a tongue?"

"Commander Hitchcock is... a mute," Keller improvised hopelessly, glancing at Ford in despair as he instantly realised what he had done.

"Commander Hitchcock..." Joseph nodded slowly, looking pointedly at the I.D. patch on O'Neill's loaned uniform.  "A rapid promotion that facilitated a name change!  And I heard her talking to the real Lieutenant O'Neill yesterday evening in the Mess.  So..." she rounded on Ford triumphantly.  "You'd better tell me what's going on!"

"It's a throat infection," Crocker attempted lamely, grasping at a last straw in desperate loyalty to his captain.  Unfortunately, the alien's self-projection chose that moment to falter again, causing it to hunch over in apparent pain and momentarily start to fade.  Crocker looked to Ford, spreading his hands.

"Sorry, Commander."

Ford patted him on the shoulder.  They were all in it now, right up to their necks.

"Well?" Joseph demanded impatiently.

Ford sighed, recognising that there was no way out of this one, and tired of trying to hide the truth.  "Obviously," he told her.  "This is not Commander Hitchcock..."

"Obviously."

 

\-----

 

An hour had passed.

Slowly kicking, treading water and expending as little energy as possible, Hitchcock waited, counting off the minutes on her wristwatch.  Her makeshift float had long-since become saturated and sunk.

The sun was also sinking fast now, getting ever closer to the horizon, and she was just beginning to feel cold.  There was a choice, she could move faster to keep warm, or she could preserve her energy to attempt to remain afloat.  Either way would make her suffer for it in the end, but she had greater faith in her own ability to keep fighting than she did in her chances against hypothermia.

Back at the Academy she had been the ladies distance swimming champion in her second year, runner-up in the first and third.  There had even been talk of a position on the Olympic team at one point, but it had come to nothing.  She had a great stamina, could swim for hours.  But that was under controlled conditions, with the knowledge that the side of the pool was not so very far away, and, more importantly, the knowledge that she could stop if she needed to.

Here, she could not stop, could not give up.  Sink or swim.

Swallowing her fear, trying to warm herself up, she swam.

 

\-----

 

"Miguel... Miguel..."

The sonar operator did not notice O'Neill's voice hissing in his ear at first, so intent was he on his so far fruitless search for their missing commander.

"What's up?  You found something?" he hissed back.  Of the Bridge crew, only Shan and Phillips were so far aware of the situation, and neither man wanted to change that.  Things were already difficult enough.

"Nothing.  You?"

"I've got Mother and Junior on full sweep.  Loner's doing more detailed checks on anything they pick up.  So far we've found three giant squid, an oversized jellyfish, and five sharks."

"Sharks!" O'Neill could not keep the alarm out of his voice.  He swung around in his chair to look across at the Cuban.  Ortiz just nodded.

"Sharks."  He paused, then added quietly.  "You realise we might not find anything at all now, ever?"

Tim straightened abruptly, and turned immediately back to his station, refusing to accept that.

"We'll find her," he insisted.  "If it takes all night, we'll find her."

 

\-----

 

"...and we haven't found her yet," Ford finished recounting the events to Doctor Joseph.  He had recalled Captain Bridger, and after a brief discussion they had elected to reveal the truth - or at least as much of it as related to the artefact.  They had not told her about their earlier visitor, nor about the message they had sent.

Bridger sat on the edge of Darwin's pool, absently petting the dolphin, knowing that the mammal would sense the tension in the room and would be distressed by it.  He was watching Joseph's face, trying to gauge her reaction.  So far she had sat listening, expressionless.  Now she stood and crossed over to the alien.  Bridger exchanged an apprehensive glance with Ford.

"This is remarkable," she said finally, circling the creature critically, then moving over to stare in fascination at the little artefact sitting now on the table in front of Ford.  "And it came from this, working from something in Lieutenant Krieg's mind?"

"That's right."

"Put like that, Cap," Crocker whispered, "I guess we should be thankful it only projected the commander!  Could've been much worse!"

Bridger shot him a look which the old sea dog knew well enough to instantly shut up.  It had been insensitive under the circumstances, which could be little worse, but the security chief had only been trying to lighten the mood.

"And he took it off the ship, without telling anyone?"

Ford nodded.  "He's fascinated by the subject, you know that.  We were all bored rigid by his fascination this morning!  I don't condone what he did, but he believed it was harmless."  He stopped, surprised to find himself defending the man.  Then he remembered that Katie had known about it too.  Not just defending Krieg then.  Acceptable.

"He just wanted a souvenir," Bridger added.  "I think I might have been tempted to do the same."

"Well..." Joseph bent over the artefact, intrigued, then unexpectedly straightened and smiled at them.  "I know I would have!"

"What?!" Ford could not stop himself exclaiming.

"Surprises you, does it?"

"Well... yes!"

"Really?"  She moved over to the creature again, slowly circling it, fascinated.  "Let me tell you something, Commander.  When you've worked in this field as long as I have, seen the way anything too interesting tends to vanish oh-so-conveniently, watched the way any genuine alien encounters are hushed up, when you've watched valid projects being erased from your databanks before your eyes, when you've had crates of evidence forcibly removed from your labs... When you've gone through all that, Commander, you take what you can get and you keep your mouth shut."

Ford still found it hard to imagine Doctor Joseph ever keeping her mouth shut, but he managed to refrain from saying so.  He exchanged a vaguely hopeful glance with Bridger.  Perhaps all was not lost after all.

"Are you suggesting we should keep this...er...find quiet, Doctor?" the captain asked carefully.

"From your reaction to my arrival, I doubt I need to suggest that.  I'd like to know what else you haven't told me."  She paused, waiting to see if anything was forthcoming, but was met with silence.  "Okay, have it your way.  But if you want your commander back, sounds like you'll need all the help you can get."

"Yes."  Bridger slid off the poolside and stood up.  Ford stared at him in horror.  "You're right."

"Sir, Captain, you can't..." Ford began, but Bridger shook his head.

"I'll take full responsibility, Jonathan.  This is Commander Hitchcock's life we're talking about."

Ford looked from Bridger to Joseph and back, not at all convinced that the woman could help, and positive that the captain was making a huge mistake.  But it was too late now, she knew she had been lied to.  Ford could only stand back and let Bridger explain to the woman.  Of all the people in the world, Alex Joseph was one of the last that Ford would have shared the secret with.  But Bridger was willing to trust her, going with his instincts as always.  Ford did not trust the doctor, but he trusted the captain.  His instincts had saved them all often enough.  He sighed, heavily, not liking this at all.

"I'll get the data disks, then."

Bridger nodded, expecting no less of him than that he would do the right thing.  Which, somehow, made it worse.

 

\-----

 

The sun had gone down on Katherine Hitchcock.

For a long time it had been low in the sky, but now it had almost slipped below the horizon.

It had been a beautiful sunset, the reds, oranges and golds mingled in with a dash of purple had looked spectacular as they stretched across the sky.  She had floated on her back for a while, watching it all.  The dazzling array of colours was a result of the deeply polluted atmosphere, but she chose not to think about that, just to appreciate the scene.

But the sun was almost gone, and the water was cold, and there was no sign of any ship.  Now, she knew, she would be faced with the choice of a long and hopeless swim, or a short and hopeless wait.  Nobody would find her in the dark, even if they knew where to look.

Katie waited until the last sliver of the sun slid below the horizon, then turned a slow circle, checking there was nothing she could aim for, even though she had done this many, many times over the past few hours.

Cold and afraid, but not allowing that to get to her yet, she reluctantly struck out in the direction of the sunken star.

 

\-----

 

Three and a half hours had passed since the creature had released Hitchcock into an unknown ocean, and so far the seaQuest had found no sign of her.

Westphalen's office had become a substitute Ward Room, where first Bridger had let Joseph in on the true situation, and then various members of staff had thrown theories and ideas around, trying desperately to come up with a way of either finding the missing commander or fixing the artefact so that the alien might tell them where she was.  But nothing had worked, people were tired and worried, and tempers were fraying.  Bridger had been less than delighted when Kristen reappeared with Krieg, foreseeing more trouble there as time went on.  For now, he was somewhat relieved to note, the lieutenant was remarkably subdued, sitting in Westphalen's office listening to all the ideas and rarely saying anything at all, except to offer help.  Bridger could sympathise with how the man felt, and let him stay there whilst he was not causing trouble.

Outside, the creature was visibly weakening.  Its drain on the power supply was still increasing, and the artefact was constantly too hot to touch now.  The creature's grip on Hitchcock's form was also weakening.  The features had become exaggerated, cartoon-like, almost a caricature of the lieutenant-commander.  The skin looked rubbery, and her shape impossibly thin and voluptuous at the same time.  Each time her image flickered and sputtered, she grew less like the photograph Joseph now held.  Hitchcock, it seemed, was not the only one to be in mortal danger.

Joseph was fascinated by the creature, and showed no signs of wanting to report it or them, for which Bridger was grateful.  They had given in to Darwin's demands, and let the dolphin out to search, but on his return he had merely confirmed their fears that Hitchcock was not in the area.  After that, Darwin had been more willing to work at communicating with the creature, understanding the urgency, but his efforts had yielded nothing of use.

Finally, Bridger, Joseph, and virtually the entire team working with the creature sat around the pool for a desperate brainstorming session, all very well aware of how fast time was running out.

They ran through everything they had learnt or deduced.  Already they had scoured the waters they were in when Hitchcock vanished, those they were in when she was freed, and the area above the site of the alien ship, all to no avail.  Ortiz had the WSKRs at full stretch, whilst O'Neill had the new communications buoy listening out on levels its designers had never thought would ever be used.  Nothing.  EVA was on overload, with Shan and Phillips leading two small fleets in a careful search pattern.  It had been necessary to inform increasingly large numbers of the crew of the situation, at least partially, and gradually the news was spreading via the rumour machine that the massive search was for a missing crewmember.  Few people had deduced who as yet, the presence of the alien throwing them off, but it would not be long before they did.  In the meantime, Bridger had other worries.  The artefact had become so hot that it was starting to scorch the table it rested on.  There was a growing risk of fire or explosion, Westphalen had secured it in her now deserted office but none of them had any idea what strength any possible explosion might be.  He got up whilst Ortiz was reporting back over the comlink yet another failed sonar sweep, and stared in at the small globe.  Apart from all the other dangers such an explosion would bring, they would never be able to find out how the artefact worked, how the creature had survived, inert, for so long.          

“Captain,” Ford’s voice brought him back to the group.  “Miguel says there’s a storm brewing above us.”

Bridger looked around at the ring of worried faces.  Krieg had paled almost to the colour of his uniform sweater.  The captain spoke directly to him when he replied: “That’s not necessarily cause to worry.  We’ve searched the area, she’s not here.  For all we know she could have emerged close to land and have swum ashore.  It might be somewhere remote, it could be days before we hear from her.  Weeks, even.”

It did not help.  They all knew that such places were almost non-existent now.  She could just as easily be wherever that storm had come from, already drowned.  Beside Ford, the creature’s life-force weakened again and Jonathan caught at her, thinking she was going to fall.  She had totally transferred her loyalties to him now, unable to bear the rejection she sensed from her original subject, and he found the trusting affection touching despite everything.

“At least she won’t be shooting anyone else,” Crocker remarked, watching the distressed creature not totally without pity.

“That’s a shame, I’d like to have seen how it did it,” Joseph began, then saw the disbelief on the faces of those around her and added: “Under carefully controlled circumstances, of course.”

Most of them looked away, disgusted, but it did not put the woman off.  She continued: “Didn’t you say there were thirty-two crewmembers shot by the original creature?”

“Thirty-four,” Ford corrected.  “Are you keeping scores now?”

She ignored that, speaking to Bridger.  “Those crewmen all reappeared in the same spot, no matter where they were when they were shot, correct?”

Bridger nodded slowly, reluctantly.  He had already thought of this, and of the implications, and decided it was too dangerous.  But he could see from the expressions on some of the group’s faces that they had not.

“Well then all you need to do is send someone after her before it packs up altogether.”

“I’ll do it!” Krieg immediately volunteered.

“It’s too dangerous.  I’m not risking any more of my crew,” Bridger told them shortly.

“But it’s my fault she’s out there,” Krieg protested.  “If I’d left the artefact where it was this wouldn’t have happened.”

“I’m glad you realise that.  And the answer’s still no.  That creature can barely support itself, let alone guide where it’s setting you down.  No.”

“But Captain...”

“No.  If it was reliable I’d let you risk it.  But there’s no way of telling where it might drop you, if it even manages to free you at all.  That thing in there,” he pointed towards Westphalen’s office, where the artefact still burned.  “It’s malfunctioning.  It could stop working, or blow up, at any moment.  Suppose it does that before it releases you, which is quite likely to happen given the way it’s behaving?  What then?”

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Well I won’t.  Subject closed, Lieutenant.”

Krieg sat back, brooding silently under his dark brows.  The subject was not closed, not as far as he was concerned, and Bridger knew that.  One more thing to watch out for.

The meeting went on for another half an hour, punctuated by constantly negative reports from the search teams.  At the end, they had come up with nothing, and the captain intended returning to the Bridge.  But as he headed for the door, alone, both Krieg and Ford stopped him.

“Captain,” Ford hissed, before Krieg could start up again.  “Let me try.  The alien’s latched onto me now, it won’t hurt me.”

Bridger understood the XO’s concern for his friend, but was not willing to let him risk his life in something as unlikely to succeed as this would be.  “No, Jonathan.  If I thought there was a chance I’d go myself.  And the creature needs you here.  Like you say, it’s latched onto you.  Go back and stay with it.  That’s an order.”

He could see the conflict going through his first officer’s mind reflected on the man’s face, but Bridger knew for a fact that no matter how much Ford  disagreed with him he would always obey his orders.  Of the supply officer lurking beside him he was less certain.  “And you’re coming up to the Bridge with me, Lieutenant.”

Surprisingly, Krieg offered no protest, but followed him out.  The moment they were alone in the corridor, however, waiting for the MAG-LEV, he launched a fresh campaign.

“Captain, let me go after her.”

“I said the subject was closed,” Bridger told him firmly.  Normally that tone would have silenced any man on the ship, but not this time.

”But Sir, if she’s still alive out there, and I could save her, it’d be worth the risk.  Katie’s a good swimmer, but she can’t keep going forever.  Suppose it dropped her in the middle of the Atlantic?  I have to try.”

Bridger sighed heavily, recognising that this was not going to go away, that until they either found Hitchcock or let her ex-husband go after her, Krieg was going to hound him.  And whilst Bridger had a certain amount of sympathy for his lieutenant’s feelings, there was no way that he intended letting him go.

“Everyone’s trying, Lieutenant.  And if I didn’t think it was a suicide mission, I’d let you go.  That creature is so weak and unreliable it could drop you anywhere.  Even if you made it through, with a tracer on you that still worked, it could drop you on the other side of the world.  How would you feel if it dropped you in the Straits of Gibraltar and Katie washes up a week from now off the coast of Australia because we went after you?”

“I’d know I’d tried everything I could.  If I don’t go, I’ll always wonder if I could’ve found her in time.”

The MAG-LEV shuttle arrived, and the doors opened.  Bridger stepped inside, his face a grim, set mask.  Unfortunately for him, the shuttle was empty, and Krieg could continue to talk freely.  The supply officer sat down on the seat beside him, and added quietly: “If you could’ve saved Robert, or... or your wife, wouldn’t you have tried anything?”

Bridger stiffened in his seat, bristling visibly at the comparison.  Part of him wanted to turn on the man, and let rip with all the anger he felt at the intrusion on his private world of regret.  Not so much Robert, he had been his father’s son and went his own way, made his own decisions, his own life.  There was nothing Bridger could have done to stop what happened, and he knew it.  But Carol...

Carol had died in his arms, and there had been nothing he could do to save her, nothing.  And now this man dared to use that as leverage to manipulate him, dared to compare the years of love he and Carol had shared with his own brief, failed relationship, dared to bring out into the open the private grief.  And, worst of all, Krieg was right.  He would have done anything to save either of them, no matter what it cost him personally.  But that did not mean that it was the same thing.  Not at all.

Then he calmed just enough to manage to look into the junior officer’s haunted face, and saw that perhaps, after all, it was something close.

It had been difficult, having this man on his ship for the first tour he had undertaken since Robert died.  They had gone through the Academy together, graduated together with honours, begun their careers at the same time... and then the differences set in.  Sometimes Bridger would watch Krieg do something particularly stupid, or illegal, or both, or catch him trying to make a quick buck, and he could not help but curse the unfairness of the twist of fate that had caused his son’s career path to take him away from them all, whilst one who had begun by walking the same road now lounged in a cosy cabin on the UEO flagship.  But then there was the other side of it.

Friends see sides of children that parents could never know.  Sometimes, when something had made him think of his son, he had wanted to go to Krieg, ask him about Robert, have him relate some tale that Bridger had never heard.  An anecdote, some escapade, how many times they had drunk one another under the table... anything at all just to touch his son again, if only through another’s recollections.  But he had always stopped himself, knowing that he had to keep an appropriate distance between himself and his staff.  In Krieg’s case in particular, it was necessary for a maintenance of discipline.  Perhaps, if it had been Jonathan, he could have asked.  But it was not.  And with Hitchcock, who had also known his son, it was equally difficult.  He found the cool, efficient exterior she worked so hard on held him back, and he knew she would almost certainly be uncomfortable speaking to him on a personal level.  And she had been Ben’s girl, not Robert’s, she would not have provided the same depth of memories of friendship her ex-husband could.  If Ben died out there, it would be as if a small part of his son would die too.  All those stories, all those memories, they would be lost forever.

Krieg was watching him desperately, waiting for an answer.  Somehow, Bridger got the feeling that the man would find a way to go after Hitchcock no matter what that answer was.  He did not like the idea, could not condone it.  But he was not sure that he could refuse it, either.

“Okay,” he said finally.  “I’d want to do the same thing, you’re right.  But you’re not married any more, you don’t have the same ties and responsibilities.  I know you were hoping for some sort of reconciliation, but it didn’t happen, did it?”

“No, but Sir...”

Bridger held up a hand.  “No, let me finish.  If you’re sure you’re willing to take all the risks involved in this, and remember that there’s a very real chance you could be trapped wherever that creature holds its victims for all eternity, or that you could simply be killed in the attempt, and bearing in mind all the risks I’ve already told you about, if you’re sure that this is what you have to do, then try it.  I’ll support you, but it’s entirely your decision, and I would rather you stayed here on the ship.”

Krieg let out a deep sigh of relief.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“Thank me if you get back in one piece!  I don’t like this idea one bit!”  He looked up as the MAG-LEV slid to a stop, and the doors smoothly opened.

_«Bridge.  Thank you for riding MAG-LEV.»_

They stepped outside, and Bridger glanced warily over at the duty staff calmly going about their business on the Bridge.  Only a few looked worried, harassed, or both, and it did not take a genius to deduce that these were the ones who knew the truth.  He could not see O’Neill or Ortiz, but was unhappy at the length of time both men had been on duty now.  He intended pulling them, for a short time at least, just to give them a break.  They had done all they could.  Krieg began to stride onto the Bridge, heading for O’Neill, and Bridger quickly called him back as a thought struck him.

“Hold it.  There’s one more thing you haven’t considered with this.”

Krieg looked at him blankly, but Bridger could not elaborate out there, with people walking past constantly, so they quickly stepped into the Ward Room, and shut the door.

“I’ve thought it through, Sir.  This is my fault, I have to put it right.”

“Fine.  But what if you can’t put it right, have you thought of that?”

The supply officer frowned.  “I know it might drop me in the wrong place.  But it’s the only chance Katie’s got!”

“Yes.  But what if it drops you in the right place, and you find her, and it’s too late?  We could take hours to reach you, how do you think you’ll cope with that?  It’s a very real possibility, Lieutenant.”

Krieg took a deep, steadying breath.  All the colour had drained from his face hours before, and never quite returned, but Bridger thought that his warning had turned the man a few shades paler, if that were possible.  Then, surprisingly calmly, Krieg assured him: “I’ll cope, Sir.”

“You have to be very sure, Ben.”

“I’m sure.”

Hating the idea more than almost anything he had ever had to do, the captain very, very reluctantly, called Ortiz and O’Neill into the Ward Room.

He doubted that they would like it, either.

 

\-----

 

The sea at night.

Years of service on a submarine had not really prepared Hitchcock for how very dark, so very quickly, it could become out on the ocean surface at night.  Somehow, even whilst serving on surface vessels, it had not seemed so totally devoid of light, so very black.

Without the warmth of the sun, she had grown extremely cold at an alarming rate.  Hitchcock supposed that she had arrived in a fairly tropical climate, which was hopefully in the middle of its summer, in which case the night would be short.  But it did not seem short to her, and the tropical waters were not warm.

She swam on, trying to ignore the cold, hoping desperately for the bright lights of some foreign land to break over the horizon like the Seventh Cavalry.  But there was nothing, and her arms were aching with the effort and with the cold.  She was not sure now that she could keep going.

At the Academy, she had swum much further, for far longer.  But it had not been so cold.  It had not been so dark.  Here, she could not even see her hand in front of her face.  So much for legends of the light of the silvery moon.  If the crescent moon, far above her, had a face, that face was laughing at her, mocking her hopeless attempts at survival.  The moon, and all the stars too.  The stars, which had brought this slow, cold, watery death upon her, with their gift from long ago.

Yet another wave crashed over her, and she spat out the filthy sea water automatically.  There was no chance, and she knew it, but that did not mean that she would not keep fighting right up to the bitter end.

And then, far ahead in the distance, she saw a single, tiny light...

 

\-----

 

Ben Krieg felt as if he was wired to explode.

O’Neill and Ortiz had rigged up an ultra-strong transmitter, that the seaQuest would be able to pick up on no matter where the creature dropped him.  They had strapped it to his back, under the survival suit and he could feel it digging into his skin as he moved.  The two back-up devices O’Neill had insisted on were far less uncomfortable, but as Ortiz commented just before they zipped up the suit, if he reached land and tried to get through customs he would set off every alarm in the place!  Now he stood waiting impatiently, getting more and more uncomfortably warm inside the suit, as O’Neill insisted on running tests to make absolutely sure that everything was working.

“They work, Tim!  Okay?!  They can’t all be wrong!”

O’Neill ignored him, and continued grimly running the tests as Westphalen and Crocker arrived with armfuls of useful accessories, far too much for Krieg to carry.  He could tell from the set expression on Westphalen’s face that the reason there was so much was that the two had not agreed on what consisted of a ‘necessity’.

Bridger took one look at the pile that the pair of them dumped on the floor in front of him, and shook his head in disbelief.  “Why didn’t you bring a boat for him as well?!” he asked, then wished that he had not when Crocker pulled a deflated small dinghy from the bottom of his pile.  He heard Ortiz laugh, and turned to silence the Cuban with a single look.  Ortiz turned the sound into a cough, and moved quickly to O’Neill’s side, suddenly interested in the tests again.

“Nathan,” Kristen had adopted the no-nonsense tone that normally indicated someone had annoyed her.  “Kindly inform your security chief that keeping the commander warm and alive is far more important than carrying shark guns and... and...” she knocked the plastic-coated package out of the chief’s hand in disgust, “rubber boats!”

Bridger found Ford at his side, looking down at the heap with a bemusement that matched his own.  The alien was sitting a little way off, Levin and Joseph still working with it via Darwin.  Ford had accepted what Krieg was doing with some relief, and was one of the few members of the team to be genuinely helpful.  Westphalen and Crocker had both expressed their feelings on the matter, Westphalen had done so particularly forcefully, but it had made no difference.  Levin and Keller had expressed doubts, whilst Joseph had been unable to stop her fascination with the creature interfering with her judgement and had tended to side with Krieg, mainly because she wanted to see the transference for herself.  Ortiz was doing his job, and Bridger could not help but feel the Cuban was slightly excited over the whole idea, and had not thought through the consequences properly.  O’Neill, on the other hand, clearly disapproved, and his silences spoke volumes.  Often quiet, the communications officer was still never backward in coming forward when it mattered.  Bridger knew that his own acceptance of the idea daunted Tim, and it was only this that was stopping an outburst equal to Westphalen’s.

With Ford’s help, Bridger went rapidly through the pile, discarding most of it.  At the end, they were left with two heavy-duty lifejackets, a few distress flares, a survival suit and a wide-beam underwater torch.  The rest they threw aside.

“Wait a minute!” Westphalen exclaimed indignantly, reaching for the huge medical kit she had brought, and opening it up.

“He can’t carry all that, Doctor,” Ford pointed out.

“Just this one bottle.  If he finds her, she’ll have been in the water for a long time, this will warm her up a little.  With the survival suit...”

”He’s never going to get that on her in the water, Commander,” Bridger pointed out, interrupting her.  Ford immediately threw it with the rest of the discarded items. 

Westphalen visibly bristled. “Well at least take this,” she thrust the bottle at them.

“Alcohol?”

”Of course not!  Ben,” she strode over to him.  “Give her a third of the bottle, each hour.  Hopefully we’ll have reached you by then.  Assuming you make it.  And I still say this is a stupid risk!”

Krieg was secretly beginning to agree with her.  There was no way under the sun that he was going to back out, well aware that this was probably the only hope Katie had.  But now that he was suited up almost ready to go, the thought of the weak, alien creature seated across the room from him being solely responsible for keeping him safe filled him with dread.  It did not help that he had spent a large part of his life reading books and watching movies about creatures such as this, and had seen the many and varied ends that could come to people who encountered them.  At that moment he was sincerely wishing that he had never spent a good deal of his free time in his teenage years watching old 2-D flicks.  Certain unpleasant images from an early remake of The Fly were coming back to him, dealing with the fate of a particular monkey that had been the guinea pig in a failed matter transportation experiment.  Gory had been too gentle a word for it.  He shuddered but Westphalen did not notice, having already turned back to Bridger angrily.

Crocker and Ford went to work on him next, fixing the torch, spare lifejacket and flares to his belt, then fitting the other lifejacket over him so firmly that he wondered if they would have to cut it off him when he was retrieved.

“If you come up in daylight, ditch the torch,” Ford advised.  “It’ll only slow you down while you’re searching.”

“I still say you should take a shark gun,” Crocker muttered, double-checking the fastenings on the lifejacket.  “You ever seen a shark take a bite out of someone?  I remember, first ship I was ever on, there was this guy down in Engineering, he’d only got one arm, and...”

“Chief!”  Bridger’s expression would have wilted a lesser man, but Manilow Crocker was more than used to being on the receiving end of that look, and merely shut up.

“I think I want to take the shark gun, Sir,” Krieg put in quickly.  “Just in case.  I can always ditch it.”

“Oh yes, use the ocean as a rubbish tip.  Ditch the torch, ditch the gun... I believe there’s a whole heap of unrecycled garbage in the waste disposal tank, Lieutenant, perhaps you’d like to take that as well?!”  Westphalen was seething, ready to take her anger out on anyone.  Crocker quickly handed Krieg the gun and she glared at them both.  “Oh, very ecologically-friendly!”

”I’d rather not be recycled through some giant fish’s innards,” Krieg muttered.  “It’s bad enough going through that thing!”  He nodded towards the creature, which was leaning over Darwin, barely recognisable as a copy of Katie now.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know?” Bridger told him.  “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No you don’t!” O’Neill’s outburst caught them all by surprise, and every head in the room turned to stare at the comtech.  For a moment, O’Neill blanched, then recovered and continued: “This is the stupidest thing you have ever done, Ben!  Going through that thing is going to kill you!  It can’t even support itself properly any more, let alone shoot you off into some ocean somewhere in one piece!  So you made a mistake, so you’re an idiot!  We all know that!  Nobody thinks you did this on purpose, even...” he stopped, hating having everyone staring at him, but wanting to make his point.  It was very hard sometimes, being a not terribly assertive communications officer.  “...even Commander Hitchcock wouldn’t think you did it on purpose!  You shouldn’t have to pay for one mistake like this.”  He paused again, glanced down at the monitor he was holding, then slapped it into Ortiz’s hand.  “This is ready.  I’m not staying around to watch.”

With that, O’Neill stalked from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence, quickly broken by Westphalen.

“Hear hear.  I’m glad to see somebody still has some sense.  I don’t particularly want to watch this either, but unfortunately as chief medical officer I have to stand around while you kill yourself.  You may as well get on with it.  Josh,” she called coolly across to Levin, who looked up from his examination of the creature.  “Apparently he’s ready.  Foolish, suicidal, and misguided perhaps, but ready.”  She sat on the edge of the nearest desk, her arms folded over her white labcoat and her expression grim, watching over them all with gross disapproval. 

It made no difference.  Having satisfied himself that Krieg was reasonably well-equipped to defend himself against the twenty or so Great Whites that he was convinced the man was going to materialise in the midst of, Crocker loudly and firmly moved everyone well away from him.  It left Ben looking as if he should be modelling for an aquatic clothing catalogue, isolated in the middle of the room in a survival suit and fully inflated lifejacket, clutching the shark gun defensively across his chest, trying to look a lot braver than he felt.

Ford was the last to go.  Krieg could see in the other man’s eyes that he was trying to think of something to say.  They would never be close friends, their views of the world were too different, but occasionally over the tour there had been times when he had earned the commander’s respect.  There had been far more numerous times when he had earned his wrath, but generally Ford had decided that the good outweighed the bad, and the supply officer no longer feared the loss of his position on the ship.  But this was something more, Ford and Katie had always been closer friends than Krieg could accept without at least a touch of jealousy, and he was well aware that his own relationship with that lady did not help smooth stormy waters between himself and the XO.  Whether that was out of righteous anger at the plight of a friend, or out of envy of a position he himself would have liked to assume, Krieg did not know, nor wanted to.  No, they would never be friends, but they shared a deep-rooted concern for the woman he was about to attempt to search for, and that made things different.  Krieg knew that had he not been doing this, Ford would probably have gone himself, for something that was not his fault.      

Ford circled him, double-checking the lifejacket was secure, triple-checking it.  Finally there was nothing more to do.  Awkward, he stuck out his hand.

“Good luck.”

“Uh huh.  Just be ready to come running.  She’s been in the water a long time.”

“I know.”  One quick, firm handshake, then Crocker was calling Ford away, and Krieg was alone.

The alien raised its arm.  It looked nothing like Katie now, only its height and dark hair bore any resemblance at all.  Its distorted features stared at him without any apparent emotion, and he found that disconcerting enough to look away.  But he found no relief in the circle of worried faces across the room from  him, especially when Crocker found it necessary to cross himself just then.  That made Krieg feel a whole lot better.

The alien seemed to be waiting for something, standing there with its arm raised.  Krieg half-turned to the captain, who was watching with a practised expression of extreme calm that totally masked all the misgivings he had about this:

“Sir...”

He got no further.  A bolt of energy hit him square in the chest, and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

As if he had never been there.

The creature flickered and sputtered alarmingly, and for a moment it looked as if it would vanish or collapse.  But it righted itself, with difficulty, and almost straightened.  It did not look good.

It was Crocker who broke the silence that had fallen over the room.  “Well,” he reminded them.  “He wanted to know what it was like being shot by an alien!”

The look Bridger gave him could have cut ice.

 

\-----

 

Hitchcock battled on through the increasingly choppy water, still heading for the tiny light.

It seemed to take an age before she was noticeably closer to it, and longer still before she was able to see why it appeared so small.  The light was attached to the top of a buoy, that had broken away from wherever it had been placed and drifted out here.  It shed a small circle of light around it, but as she drew close Katie soon realised that it was not going to light her way towards the nearest land.  Even if the shore were only a mile away, it might as well be on the other side of the world for her chances of locating it in the dark.

She swam up to the buoy, and clung to it, glad of the chance to rest.  But when she stopped, it made her see how very tired she was.  She knew that whatever happened, she could not leave here now, but remain clinging to the smooth plastic sides of the dumpily-shaped buoy.  If she could survive until morning, she might reach that shore.

The water felt like ice now that she had stopped.  She was shivering already.  If surviving meant holding on, she was not sure that she could do it for as many hours as it might take.  The light provided a little warmth, but not enough.

Not nearly enough.

 

\-----

 

Kristen Westphalen did not like the area she was moving into now.  It went against the grain, too close to experimenting on sentient beings.  Fine-tuning an inter-species communications device was one thing, sending people through an ancient alien transportation system that they knew next to nothing about was quite another.  Especially as, since it had zapped Krieg, the creature showed increasing signs of a rapidly deteriorating condition.  They had not yet dared ask it to release him, hoping for some small improvement, but it was not forthcoming.  Levin, Keller and Joseph were working with the creature, and she left them to it, preferring to stay with the calming presence of the dolphin in a rare moment when none of the others were pestering the poor animal.  She reached over the side of the pool, and petted him fondly.  Darwin splashed appreciatively.

_«Kristen play?»_

She smiled, and splashed a handful of water over him, managing to dodge the spray he sent back.  “Later.”

_«No, now!  Play!»_

”Sorry, Sweetheart.  We have to find Katie.  And now Ben as well,” she added pointedly as Bridger joined her beside the pool, the strain showing deeply in his lined face.  “What on earth possessed you to let him go after her?!”

 Bridger reached in and stroked the dolphin under its chin.  “It was his decision.”

“He wasn’t thinking straight!”

“Perhaps not, but I would have done the same thing in his position.”

”Oh wonderful!  I suppose I should be thankful that you stayed on the seaQuest and didn’t go alien-hunting with the rest of them!  Who knows what you and Ben could have found to bring back and disrupt the ship with between you!”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” He reached into the water and caught her hand as it petted Darwin.  She turned her cool gaze towards him, still angry but softened by his touch.  He lowered his voice: “I would have gone after you.”

It was an unexpected tenderness after the worries and fears of the day, and it was like cool water rushing over her face: a relief.  Her face automatically broke into a smile, and she hugged him, ignoring the others for a moment.  “You’d go after Lucas too,” she whispered in his ear mischievously.  “I’m not that flattered!!”

Bridger chuckled, and was about to make a further comment, when a thought struck him.  “I’d forgotten Lucas.  For some reason I can’t for the life of me fathom, they’re friends!  If this goes wrong... let me talk to him.”

“Well let’s hope it doesn’t.”  Kristen released him, remembering Joseph’s snide comments early in the day, and not wanting to add fuel to her fire.  But the doctor was too engrossed in examining the weakened alien to take any notice of what mere humans were doing.  Bridger went over to the little group.

“Let’s get this moving.  It’s not getting any stronger, we can all see that, have it release my lieutenant before it collapses completely.”

Keller and Levin exchanged concerned glances, but Joseph surprised him by agreeing.  “You’re right.  We’ll do it at once.”

”Nathan,” Scott hissed, pulling him to one side.  “That thing’s breaking up.  Have you smelt in the doctor’s office?!  That little globe is scorching its way through the table-top, and cooking itself in the process!  It stinks in there!”

“I think we should clear the room,” Levin announced, his face even paler than usual.  Bridger was well aware that all his staff that were involved in this had been working a very long day.  He did not like it, but short of informing the entire crew of the situation there was nothing he could do about it.  “In case anything goes wrong.”

”Okay.”  Bridger ordered everyone into the corridor outside, including Keller, whom he almost had to have dragged out.  “You too, Jonathan.”

Ford shook his head.  “No, Sir.  It’s attached to me, I should stay.  We shouldn’t risk lives unnecessarily though.”  He paused, then: “You wait outside.  Sir.”

Bridger smiled, liking his cheek.  It was all too rare, and not misplaced.  He knew that Levin only wanted the room cleared to spare as many people as possible whatever unpleasant effects might occur if this time it actually succeeded in returning its victim to the ship.  “I’ll stay here with Darwin, thanks.”  He walked quickly back to the poolside, where Levin was talking to the dolphin again.  Darwin immediately emitted a stream of clicks and whistles, singing to the creature, letting their wishes be known.  Bridger wondered again at the marvellous piece of technology that Lucas had created.

Ford and Joseph were crouched down beside the creature.  It looked up at Darwin’s call, and tried to get to its feet.  But it could not manage to, and sat looking despairingly at Ford.  Its eyes were still the same shade of blue as Katie’s, but the caricature process had enlarged them, adding a deep sense of sadness to the face that had once been beautiful.  Mournfully, it gazed at him, then around at Joseph.

“It’s such a pity you can’t talk to us properly,” the doctor told it sadly.  “There’s so much you could have told us, so much we could have learned.”

The creature spread its arms in a gesture of apology, and hung its head.  Then it lifted its face to look at Ford again, and mouthed something silently at him.

“What?  What did she say?!” Joseph demanded excitedly.  But the creature slumped forward, and did not move again.

Ford and Joseph lifted the alien, trying to revive it.  But its skin was shrivelling beneath their hands, and even as Bridger and Levin came running across the room the body seemed to evaporate into the nothingness of a fine powder, gone.

“The artefact!”  Levin skidded to a halt, turned on his heel and made a dash for Westphalen’s office.  But as he reached the door, the heat became too much, and the little globe’s frantic pulsing caused it to burst into a billion pieces, blowing the door outwards and knocking Levin flying.

Kristen and the others were back in the lab in seconds, the doctor rushing straight to her fallen colleague’s side.  A quick check soon ascertained that there was nothing wrong with Levin save a few cuts and what would become some very colourful bruises.  The alien would take a little more work.

Joseph and Ford were still crouched together on the floor, the powdery residue that the alien had left behind covering them both.  Ford looked stunned, shocked.  Joseph, if anything, looked deeply saddened.  Bridger hunkered down between them, and ran a finger through the residue on the floor.

“Is it totally destroyed?” Joseph asked, nodding towards the room where the artefact had been.

Bridger nodded.  “Blown apart.  There’s nothing left.”

“Wh... what about Ben?”  Ford wanted to know.

“I don’t know.  But he knew the risks.”

“She was trying to release him,” Joseph put in helpfully.  “It was the strain of that.  Maybe she succeeded?”

“Let’s hope so.  Chief Ortiz!”  He called the Cuban over.  “Anything yet?”

Miguel shook his head, his gaze fixed on the readings of the instrument in front of him.  “Not yet, Sir.  It would be easier from my station on the Bridge.”

“Go back up there then.  The moment you find anything, call me.”

“Yessir.”  Ortiz tucked the bulky receiver under his arm, and hurried to the door, diving past a groggy Levin who was being helped to his feet by Crocker and a couple of his men.

Keller hovered in the blasted doorway for a few moments, then went inside, searching through the debris.  When Bridger followed him, he found the man on his knees, scrabbling through the wreckage of the table and everything around it, trying to find some trace of the artefact.

“Forget it, Scott.  It’s gone.  You might find fragments embedded in the door, but they’ll be too small to be any use.”

“I guess you’re right.”  Keller gave the floor a final sweep, scattering shards of plastic in all directions, then got to his feet with a sigh.  “What a waste.”

“Worse than a waste.  I’ve got two good officers missing.  What the hell am I supposed to tell their families?  I should never have let Krieg go, I knew something like this would happen.”

“Let Krieg go where?” Lucas’s voice piped up from behind him.  “Wow!  What a mess!  What happened, did the alien explode?!”

Bridger could have done without the teenager at that point.  “You’re supposed to be resting in Medbay.”

“Hey, who can sleep when there’s explosions going off down the corridor?!” Lucas grinned, then caught on, noticing the grim, concerned expressions on everyone’s faces.  “What’s happened?” he asked, then remembering what he had just heard he added suspiciously: “Where’s Ben?”

“We’re not sure.  He went after Commander Hitchcock, on the same route.  Ortiz is searching for his signal now.”

“He went after... you mean it shot him too?!” Lucas’s eyes widened in shock.  “Captain, if...”

”No.” Bridger pressed a finger to the teenager’s lips.  “I don’t want to hear it.  We don’t know what’s happened.  If you must stay, go sit - and I mean sit - with Darwin.  He’s distressed, talk to him.  Otherwise go back to Medbay.”

Lucas stuck his bottom lip out, pouting sulkily, but chose to sit with Darwin rather than miss anything else.  Bridger and Keller went over to Ford, Westphalen and Joseph, who had now gathered what was left of the powder into a couple of small vials.

“Not much, is it, for all those years of waiting?” Joseph commented ruefully, holding one of the vials up to the light.  “I’m sorry about your people,” she turned to look at Bridger, and he found that he believed she really was truly sorry.  It was not something he had expected from her.  “If there’s anything I can do to help you find them.”

“Thank you, Doctor, but we don’t even know if the creature released Krieg...”  He was interrupted by a bleep from his PAL communicator, and activated it, hoping for news.

“Captain,” it was Ortiz’s voice, but he could hear O’Neill talking to Shan in the background.  “We’re picking up something that sounds pretty much like Ben’s transmitter.”

Bridger gave a sigh of relief, and could hear it echoed in varying degrees around the room.  “Good work.  How soon can we reach him?”

”Well...” Bridger did not like the hesitancy in the Cuban’s voice.  “I don’t have an exact fix yet, but it looks like several hours away.  Ben should be okay, the storm hasn’t reached that far yet, but... it’s night-time out there, Sir.”

Bridger understood what Ortiz was trying hard not to say, that whilst Krieg should be okay with his survival suit, lifejacket, and certain rescue, Hitchcock did not have that luxury, and had been in the water far longer.  “I’ll be straight up.  Tell Shan to lay in a course direct to Lieutenant Krieg’s signal, speed as fast as she’ll go!”

“Aye, Sir.” Ortiz broke the connection, and Bridger headed for the door, Ford, Crocker and a still-fascinated Joseph at his heels.

Lucas watched them go, pretty relieved himself.  His ribs were starting to hurt again, and he winced as a fresh spasm twisted through him.  Sitting was uncomfortable.

“I saw that, young man!”  Westphalen marched over to him.  “Back to bed.  And if you get up once more I’ll have Chief Crocker post a guard over you!”

That was threat enough for Lucas.  He did not get on particularly well with many of the stone-faced security guards, apart from Crocker himself, who could not have been hard-faced if he tried.  Lucas got up.  “Sorry, Darwin.”

The dolphin watched through the glass sides of his pool as the room emptied.  Somebody had left the vo-coder switched on, and it echoed around the empty room:

_«Lucas swim?... Play?...»_

He was out of luck.  Again.

 

\-----

 

For a moment, when Krieg emerged in the cold, dark water, he thought that the transportation process had blinded him.  He could see nothing, not even his hand in front of his face.  Then his eyes began to adjust to the dark, and he looked up and saw the stars.

The lifejacket kept him afloat without any difficulty, but he quickly realised that operating the torch would be awkward enough without managing the shark gun as well.  He tried hooking the gun to his belt, but it slipped from his fingers.  There was no point in even attempting to find it again.  Instead, he struggled with the cumbersome light, and shone it out across the water.

After the dark, the brightness of the beam was dazzling.  It shone out over the waves, revealing a empty sea.  The sight was not what he had prayed for, and he turned, trying to move the beam around steadily, to cover all of the ocean.

“Katie!”  Krieg’s own voice sounded strange to him, the only sound out there other than the swell of the sea and the whisper of the breeze.  Ortiz’s storm had yet to arrive, but Krieg had no way of knowing that.  “Katie!!”

He stopped, still, listening hard for any reply.  When none came he shouted again, and again, but there was nothing and the silence left a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  He was too late, or in the wrong place, or both.  Swinging the beam around, he looked desperately for something, any sign of Hitchcock at all.  But the sea was all the same, cold and dark and unwelcoming.  He could feel desperation rising up as panic inside him, and tried to force himself to think straight.

Krieg no longer felt tired, the trip had rejuvenated him, just as all the other victims had described.  That was good, he told himself, it meant that Katie would not have been exhausted before she even started her ordeal either.  He looked up at the stars, the moon.  In training classes he had not ever paid attention to anything which did not apply to submarining, and had no idea about the position of the stars and where that meant that he was.  Crocker, he knew, would be able to tell at a glance, but by his own time such things had been relegated to special interest classes only, not a regular part of any course.  Who needed the stars, even in a surface vessel, when you had computers?  Krieg knew enough, at least, to tell that as the water was not overly cold he could not be all that far from the equator, and that combined with the fact that it was night there as well as in the area where he had left seaQuest boded well.  It meant that the ship could not possibly be too far away.  And it meant that Katie stood a good chance of still being around.  He called out to her again, but there was no reply.

“Dammit!”  The supply officer turned off the torch, waited for his eyes to adjust again, and peered into the blackness, searching for any sign of the lights that would herald the ship’s arrival.  There was nothing there yet, but he had no doubts that the seaQuest would arrive soon.

His eyes adjusted as much as they could, but with no light at all there was nothing to see.  Still he searched, calling out every few moments, hoping for an answer.  And then he noticed the tiny light that Katie had seen.

Clipping the torch back onto his belt, he swam off towards the buoy, not finding it easy in the bulky lifejacket.  But he could not take the thing off, Ford had seen to that and now he knew why.

The wind was starting to whip up.  Ortiz’s storm was getting closer.  And still, when Krieg called out in the direction of the light, there was no reply.

 

\-----

 

Miguel Ortiz could never remember having felt so tired.  It was one thing to exist on a minimum of sleep, it was another to keep up this level of concentration when all you wanted to do was crawl back to your bunk and curl up and sleep for a week.  It was the need to concentrate that was so draining, the constant monitoring of the WSKRs as they raced through the water towards Krieg’s signal, just in case they discovered Hitchcock on the way.  From now on, he swore, the poker games would have a curfew, and they would never, ever hold them two evenings in a row.

He could have been relieved, Bridger had told him that.  But the WSKRs were his baby, he could handle them far, far better than anyone else on the ship and he knew it.  Bridger knew it, too, and did not argue with his decision to stay.  Ortiz was not willing to take the risk of missing either of his crewmates by entrusting the job to a junior.  Especially as they were travelling into the end of a tropical storm that was heading straight for Krieg’s position.  They had already encountered it once, it had passed them whilst they were static in the water, and now they were going into it again.  The readings he was getting indicated that it would almost have reached Krieg now, and he knew that once it did the reception of his signal would be less reliable.

“How’s that storm holding out?”

Bridger’s voice made him jump, his concentration solely on the readings before him.  The interruption was an annoyance, but he did not dare let that show.

“Not good, Sir.  It’s nearly on him, and it’s starting to interfere with the signal up ahead.  I can still follow it,” he added quickly.

“Good.”  Bridger patted him on the back, then moved on, to Ortiz’s relief.  It left him free to concentrate solely on his job, which was all he wanted.

”Miguel.”  O’Neill’s voice hissed in his ear, and the sonar chief gritted his teeth, not wanting to upset his friend, who was probably just as tired as he was, but also not wanting to be disturbed.

“What?”

“Have you found anything?”

“No.”

“Me neither.  The storm’s affecting the signal.”

“Yeah.”

O’Neill went on, totally ignoring the fact that Ortiz was replying with monosyllables in a totally disinterested tone.  “Do you think they’ll be okay?  With the storm, I mean?”

“Maybe.”

“Ben’s a pain in the butt most of the time, but I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”

“No.”

There was a short silence, then O’Neill started up again: “What rate of overtime do you think we should claim for this little stint?!  I mean, I’m pretty shattered myself, I think triple time isn’t enough.  If we both down tools now, do you think we could ask for more?  You know, go on strike?”

Ortiz was very tired, and not really listening, so it took a moment or two before it sank in.  Stunned that O’Neill would even contemplate such a move, he turned in his chair to stare at the communications officer in shock.  But O’Neill had Westphalen at his side, and they were both looking over at him.  Westphalen leaned over and spoke into O’Neill’s microphone.

“If you don’t lighten up, I can have you removed from the Bridge, you know?!  I don’t want you in Medbay suffering from stress and exhaustion.  There are other people who can do that job.”

Ortiz looked singularly affronted at the very idea.  “Hey, in your dreams, doc!  I’m fine, you worry about Tim, he’s the...” he paused, then thought of a suitable phrase in Spanish and utilised it.  O’Neill scowled at him, and told him exactly what he thought, also in Spanish.

Westphalen suffered the banter for a few minutes, then reached over and switched O’Neill’s receiver to a different frequency.

“I think that’s light enough,” Ortiz heard her say from the other side of the room.  “Back to work, boys.”

He hated to admit it, but she had been right.  A tiny break like that, and yet he felt far better, and for a while it was easy to concentrate.  But the search yielded nothing, and above them the storm was beginning to rumble.

 

\-----

 

Out on the surface, too many miles away, Hitchcock was having trouble keeping afloat.

The sea was starting to get choppy, and the waves that broke around her were getting bigger.  She did not need anyone to tell her that there was a storm coming.  Her grip on the buoy was slipping, her hands cold and aching with the effort of holding on.

She had not considered this.  The sea had looked calm in daylight, had been calm until now.  All she had expected to do was try to stay afloat and survive the exposure.  Even just a mild storm at sea, with only a slippery plastic buoy to cling to, was not part of the picture.  Apart from anything else, the warmth of the day indicated that it was likely to be an electrical storm, and the buoy was the only conductor in the area.  But the dangers of electrocution were the least of her problems.

A wave, larger than the rest, whipped up from nowhere and crashed over her head, knocking the buoy out of her grasp.  She went under, caught unawares, unable to see and brace herself.

She kicked to the surface, and managed to struggle back to the buoy.  But almost immediately a second wave smashed against her, and a third, and she went under again.

This time it seemed to take much longer to reach the surface.  As if a dark hand was reaching up, trying to pull her down into the depths forever.  Hitchcock leaned against the buoy, her head down, exhausted with the effort.  The sea was singing to her, she imagined she could even hear it calling her name and she could not fight it.

A final surge of water slammed down on her head, pushing her beneath the surface.  She breathed at the wrong moment, took in a little water, panicked, struggled, and sank further into the cold blackness.

Her entire life did not flash before her eyes as she fought to reach the surface.  Instead, it was a burst of regret for all the things she had not done, the child she had never borne, the ship she had never commanded, the life she had never known.  And for her ex-husband, whom she knew would blame himself for this, and that self-blame would destroy him as surely as the sea would destroy her.

Never a quitter, she battled for the surface.  She could see the light from the buoy, but it seemed so far above her that she would never reach it.  Still she fought, floundered half-breaking the surface, then sank again.

This time, she knew, she would not make it back.

 

\-----

 

Krieg had almost reached the buoy.  The sea was far rougher than when he started, but with the lifejacket he was safe enough.  At least he could keep afloat.

It took a while for him to recognise the buoy for what it was, a tiny plastic island set in a sea of darkness.  He was almost upon it, the salt water splashing in his eyes and the waves obscuring his view in the poor light, before he could see well enough to tell that there was something else there.

“Katie?”

The shape did not respond, and when he could see again it was gone.  Not sure whether to be hopeful, fearful, or neither, he struck out towards the buoy, battling to make ground against the increasingly rough waters.

Something broke through the waves directly in front of him, floundered momentarily then went down again.  He only had the briefest glimpse in the buoy's small light, but it was enough to make out a human arm flailing in the dark water.

Krieg grabbed at it, missed, tried to reach under the water and missed again.  He dived, or tried to, the bulky lifejacket hampering him.  There was no time to cut himself free.  He fumbled for the divers’ torch, almost losing it in his haste to switch it on.

The water around him immediately filled with light, but there was only one thing he needed to see.  Fighting a losing battle to reach the surface, being drawn away from him, Hitchcock was going down.

He dove, without a second thought, straining against the pull of the lifejacket, and winning briefly.  Winning, just long enough to grab the pale hand outstretched towards him and pull Hitchcock up.

Her hand in his felt cold and frail, and as he pulled her back up into the air he found it impossible not to fear the worst.  Bridger’s words came back at him: What if you find her and it’s too late...?  He had insisted he could cope.  But as her pale, drenched face broke the surface he was not so sure.

And then she opened her mouth, taking huge gasping breaths, trying to replenish her oxygen and cough up the sea water she had swallowed all at the same time.

“Katie...” he gripped her tightly, afraid he might lose her to the ocean again.  Her skin felt so cold.  “You okay, honey?”

She shook her head, still coughing, still gasping for breath.  Krieg wanted to get the spare lifejacket over her, but until she had stabilised to some extent he dared not let go with either hand. “The seaQuest’s coming.  She’ll be here soon.  You wanna let me put this lifejacket on you?”

Hitchcock just nodded, quickly.  Her coughing had not ceased, but her desperate gasps for air had calmed somewhat.  She leaned against him, and hung on whilst he cautiously let go of her with one arm and reached for the second lifejacket.  His other arm gripped her firmly around the waist like a clamp.

It was a struggle to get the lifejacket on her, but once it was in place, and inflated, Krieg felt a little calmer.  Hitchcock was still very cold, but her coughs were less constant.

“Better?” He tied the cords of her lifejacket onto his own, as an added precaution to keep them together in the coming storm.

She shuddered.  “I’m so cold.”

“No problem!” he told her, with a cheerfulness he did not feel.  He unsealed the pocket in his survival suit, and drew out the bottle Westphalen had given him, trying to remember what she had said.  “Drink this.  It’ll warm you.” When Hitchcock looked dubious, he added: “It’s not alcohol.  The doc gave it to me.  You’re supposed to drink half... no, a third every hour...”

“Every hour?!” Hitchcock gasped.  “You said the ship was coming!”

“It is, it is!  I don’t know how long it’ll take, that’s all!  We didn’t know where I’d come out.  I don’t think it’s so far.”

Katie frowned, too cold and tired to think straight.  “So where did you come from?” Her talking set the coughing off again.

“I followed you.  Same route.”

“Same route...” she repeated slowly, trying to think what that route had been.  She felt extraordinarily tired, and just wanted to go to sleep.  “You mean that thing shot you?”

“Yeah.” Krieg pushed the bottle up to her lips.  “Come on, Katie, drink up.  You’ll feel better.”

She did as she was bid.  The liquid tasted thick and sweet, and burned all the way down.  Krieg quickly sealed the bottle away safely.  As her head cleared slightly, Hitchcock decided that it did not bode well.  He was expecting them to be out there for a while.

“How d'you feel now?” he asked, searching for any signs of improvement.  Katie looked as if she might pass out on him and out there he could not allow that to happen.

“Still cold.  What was that stuff?”

Krieg shrugged.  “Ask the doctor when we get back.  Some new drug, I guess.  Did it help?”

“A little.  I’m so cold, Ben.”

“They’ll be here soon.” Krieg thought of the spare survival suit that had been cast aside on the science deck.  If only he had taken that instead of the useless shark gun... But he felt the rough water buffeting them both, and knew that Bridger had been right to discard it.  There was no way he could have got it on her, especially not in this.  Instead, he offered her the only warmth he could, pulling her close to him.  It was not much, the survival suit saw to that, but it was better than nothing.  He ripped off the hood, and pushed her face against his exposed neck, trying to give her as much body heat as he could.  The fact that she did not even attempt to pull away told him exactly how bad a state she was in.  He could feel her shivering in his arms, and held her closer.

Krieg looked out, over the top of her head, into the unbroken blackness of the sea at night.  There was no sign of the seaQuest, no welcoming lights of a launch or a speeder, or even a stinger.  Nothing, in fact, to indicate that they were not going to be alone out there with the storm for a very long time.  He turned his attention back to the woman curled against him.

“Don’t go to sleep on me, Katie,” he warned.  “Talk to me, honey, stay awake.”

Hitchcock tried.  She told him briefly about the past few hours, but just thinking about forming the words was tiring.  In the end, she asked: “What was that thing?”

“The alien?”

“Mmm.  And how’d you get here?  Why’d it shoot you?”

Krieg told her, in great detail, everything that had happened since she vanished.  It had not escaped his notice that this question had taken a very long time to register in her mind, a sure sign of her mental and physical exhaustion.  It frightened him how very close he had come to losing her for good.  And they were still not out of the woods by a long stretch.  So he talked.  It helped take both their minds off the brewing storm around them, and their mutual fear over Hitchcock’s ability to survive the elements for much longer.  He elaborated and embroidered on his attempts to be allowed to follow her out there, eventually making it so ridiculous that even in her weakened state she laughed a little.

“What?!  It’s true!  Commander Ford was crying because he thought he’d never see me again!  And the chief composed a new verse to his favourite sea shanty especially for me!”  He paused, as she coughed again.  “That water went a long way down, didn’t it?”

Whatever she answered was lost as yet another wave crashed over them.  Overhead came the first flash of electrical energy from the storm.  Krieg tightened the cords holding them together, then quickly pulled her close again.  The water buffeted them around, already they were starting to drift away from the buoy.  Whilst the lifejackets kept them afloat, there was still danger from the tempestuous sea surrounding them as it whipped itself up into a frenzy.

Krieg did not notice the rain at first, already soaked to the skin, but as it grew rapidly heavier, pelting them with large drops, it was difficult to miss.  Then came the ominous rumble of the thunder.

The second flash of lightning revealed the bleak and empty ocean in front of him.  “Come on, guys,” he muttered under his breath.  “What’s taking so long?”

A single crash of thunder was his only reply.

 

\-----

 

“Report, Mr Shan.”

The chief helmsman rattled off the ship’s speed and location almost automatically at the captain’s order.

“And our E.T.A.?”

“Thirty-two minutes, Sir.”

They had pulled out all the stops to get that time, knocking nearly an hour off Ortiz’s original very rough estimate, but heading dangerously close to unfriendly waters in the process.  Shan did not like pushing the ship at this speed, for this long, but he liked the idea of his friends out in the raging storm above them far less.

It was the third time the captain had asked in the past fifteen minutes.  Shan needed no further proof of the man’s concern.  But a moment later, O’Neill alerted them all to a new problem.

“Captain,” he called across the Bridge.  Bridger immediately stopped his never-ending tour of each station, and hastened over to the comtech.

“What is it, Mr O’Neill?”

“Er... I’ve got General Thomas on the line.  He wants to know where... er... the hell we think we’re going.”

It did not sound too bad coming from the comtech’s calm and low voice, but Bridger knew Thomas well enough to easily imagine how the original message would have been put over.  He groaned inwardly.  This he could do without.  “Put him on.”

Thomas, predictably, did not look happy.  “Nathan, what the hell’s going on?  Who gave you instructions to leave your position?!  And you’re heading out of UEO territory!  Maybe you’d like to warn me next time you feel like taking a day trip at top speed in a heavily armed supersub straight into the range of hostile waters?!”

Bridger looked across to Ortiz.  The sonar chief shook his head.  “We won’t leave UEO waters, Captain.  It’ll be close, but we’ll still be this side of the border.”

Bridger turned back to Thomas.  “We’re nowhere near any international boundaries, General.  We’re just running some exercises, nothing for anyone to get uptight about..”

Thomas was not appeased.  “Cease exercises immediately!  Do you realise you’re on a direct course for Ecuador’s primary mining stations?!  The UEO isn’t too popular out there at the moment without you bearing down on them at top speed!  Have you any idea what this looks like?!  I’ve had their president screaming down the line at me, I didn‘t even know what he was talking about!  Just how close to the line were you thinking of taking her, Bridger?!”

“Closer than this.  We’re answering a distress call, General.  If Ecuador doesn’t like it, have them contact us direct..  I’ll explain they’ve nothing to worry about.  Now if that’s all...”

“That is not all!  I put three eminent scientists on your boat on the understanding they’d be given full access to the site of the alien ship.  You’re nowhere near that site.  Get back to your original position, right now!  And stay there!  That’s an order, Bridger!”

“This is an emergency, General.  Doctor Joseph has agreed to it.  I can’t ignore that distress signal.”

“I’m not picking it up.  Now get out of that area or I’ll have you relieved of command on the spot!  Where’s Commander Ford?”

Bridger managed to control the anger he felt only with a great effort.  The last thing he wanted was his young commander dragged into this.  Ford, however, stepped loyally up beside him at once.

“I’m right here, Sir.  With the captain.”

Thomas looked as if he might bust a blood vessel.  “I’ll have you both removed from active service!  Turn that boat around, Bridger, now!”

A silence hung across the Bridge, as the crew waited to see what the captain would do.  Certainly, he showed no signs of yielding and they all knew him well enough to expect nothing less.  Those who were not fully aware of the situation were a little puzzled, but most had at least an inkling of why they were going where they were going, and supported him.

One voice, however, rose out of the silence.

“General Thomas, I thought you said we had free reign down here?” Doctor Joseph moved across to stand beside Ford, who glanced down at her worriedly, still not totally sure which way she was going to jump.  He was starting to like her better, but had not forgotten the early stages of their acquaintance.  She smiled at him, rather smugly, and continued: “The captain is following my request that we enter this area.  Following a careful study, we’ve ascertained that a small part of the ship broke away and was blasted in this direction when the main body was destroyed.  I’m sure you can appreciate why we’re heading out here so fast, the storm above us could ruin any samples we can still retrieve.  I assure you we have no intention of heading into Ecuador’s waters, but I’m sure you can understand the need for haste.  If part of that ship fell into anyone else’s hands...”

She had him, they could all see that.  Ford had to turn his head away to hide a smile.  Thomas floundered for a moment, then rapidly agreed, as they all knew he had to.

”Okay, Doctor, you’re right.  Bridger, keep going, but get the hell out of there the moment you’ve picked up the wreckage.  Now how the hell am I supposed to explain this to their president?!”

Bridger tried hard to look sympathetic.  “You could try telling them one of our launches has run into difficulties and we’re trying to rescue the crew?”

“Good idea.  Just back me up if they contact you.”

“No problem.”  Bridger watched the screen go dead, and turned to Joseph.  “Thank you, Doctor!”

“No problem,” she mimicked.  “I can’t stand that man, Captain!  It was a pleasure!  Anyway,” her brief smile faded, and her customary businesslike expression returned.  “It’s not so far from the truth.  This is like a giant experiment, after all, isn’t it?”  Crossing her arms over the blue clipboard she carried, she turned on her heel and strode across the Bridge, heading for O’Neill’s station.  Bridger and Ford exchanged disbelieving looks.

“I know she just pulled us out of a tight spot,” Ford muttered, “but I really don’t believe that woman! I thought, out of everyone on this ship, Ben was the one person she actually seemed to like!  How can she treat this as some sort of experiment?!”

It was Westphalen that answered him, coming up quietly behind them both.  “It’s the way she is.  She’s a scientist, Jonathan.  Everything is an experiment to her.  We may not like it, but I don’t honestly think she cares.  And she did just pull us all out of a deep hole!”  She smiled, trying to lift their spirits.  “Come on, it’s just a very sick sense of humour!  But she’s trying to help, that’s why she’s still on the Bridge and not back poring over her beloved samples.  Human after all!”

Ford watched the woman beginning to terrorise poor O’Neill.  He was not convinced.

 

\-----

 

The second distress flare brought no more aid to Krieg and Hitchcock than the first had.  Though they were sealed and waterproofed, it had still been difficult to get either flare to ignite, with the waves crashing overhead.  They had lost two more flares to the sea.  Krieg held the last one tightly, not sure whether to send it yet or not.  There was so little chance of anyone seeing it in the storm for what it was.

Nevertheless, he ripped off the seal and immediately aimed it skywards, its own propellant racing it up over their heads, leaving a bright trail then exploding into a huge identifying signal in the heavens.

Hitchcock still curled against him, silently.  His attempts to warm her had not worked, she felt as cold as she had when he pulled her up through the water.  The shivering had stopped, at least, but Westphalen had debriefed him on the effects of hypothermia and he had taken in enough to recognise that far from a good sign, it almost certainly meant a continuing drop in body temperature.  Whatever the wonder drug was that Westphalen had sent him out with, it was not working.  A combination of tiredness and exposure had left her body unable to warm itself properly, and she was dozing against him despite the storm.

“Stay awake, Katie,” he yelled over the roar of the sea and the storm.  “Don’t sleep...” A wave hit him in the face, cutting him off in mid-sentence and momentarily knocking the wind out of him.  The woman clinging to him seemed almost unaffected by it.  She just hung there, accepting whatever the sea threw at them.  In all the years he had known her, he had never, ever seen her just accept anything.  It told him how weak her experience out here had left her.  Her quiet, her general lassitude, the coldness of her body, it all pointed to the advancing stages of hypothermia.  If he let her fall into unconsciousness out there, her chances of ever waking up again would slip away with each passing moment.

It was difficult to keep talking to her over the storm.  He was growing hoarse from shouting, and constantly receiving a mouthful of water from mis-judging the waves.  The buoy had been swept away from them and the only light now was from the frequent flashes of lightning that lit their predicament with frightening regularity.  The storm was right over them, and Krieg would rather not have seen the height of the waves that tossed them around.  They looked even worse than they felt, but the really huge ones would sweep them under and although the lifejackets ensured they did not go far, it was not always possible to avoid swallowing or inhaling some of the water.  And he knew that if he was inhaling it then the exhausted woman beside him would be doing so far more.

As if to prove the point, Hitchcock coughed weakly.  He felt the motion rather than heard it.  There was nothing he could do for her, except hang on and try to keep her conscious, and if she was coughing then at least she was awake.  It was what Krieg tried to tell himself, anyway.  He felt more helpless than he ever had at any time, and the fact that no-one else in his position could have done anything more did not help.

“I’m sorry, Katie,” he whispered, inclining his head over hers, aware she would not hear him.  “I wish I’d never seen that dumb ship.  I wouldn’t have done this to you for the world.”

There was no way that she could have heard.  But Krieg thought her cold hand in his pressed momentarily a little tighter in understanding.  Which, of course, made it far worse.

 

\-----

 

There was a heavy silence hanging over the launch bay.  Bridger had gone there to wait with the rescue crew now that they were so close.  He wished that they had sent Krieg off with some form of comlink so that he could tell them now exactly what to expect.  As it was, the waiting hung heavily on all of them.  Bridger boarded the launch and seated himself beside Westphalen.  She had loaded enough medical supplies to care for a dozen or more victims, but now was forced to wait along with the rest of them.

He could see Crocker sitting up in the cockpit with one of his men.  The older man had insisted on coming, but had seen the necessity for at least one of the pilots to be fresh and rested, and had brought one of his top men along for the trip.  Crocker was leaning back in his chair, waiting for the order to move.  They had wired up Krieg’s signal into the launch sonar, and he was getting a clear reading, but until the seaQuest was close enough they had to sit there and wait.  Bridger knew that the waiting would be driving his old friend crazy.

“Any news?” Westphalen asked as soon as he sat down.  He could see the others looking at him, wondering the same thing.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“It’s been just a few more minutes for the past quarter of an hour!” she exclaimed.  “So much for the supersub!”

“There’s a storm raging out there.  seaQuest can get us much closer, much faster than the launch alone.  You know that.” He looked around at Levin and the two members of the medical staff who flanked him.  “This is going to be a rough ride, don’t be so eager to leave!”

Levin half-smiled: “I never get seasick!”

”Good for you!” Keller appeared at the door, grinning broadly, then stepped inside uninvited.  “I get sick to death of it, especially hearing Nathan going on about it, trying to steal my funding for some underwater bubble or something!”

“Found aliens before your space projects did though, didn’t I?!” Bridger could not stop himself pointing out.  It made everyone smile, even Keller.  Westphalen, however, could not find it in her to be amused.  She sat in tetchy silence, and once Levin and Keller had launched into yet another conversation about the alien encounter, Bridger turned to her, lowering his voice.

“Jonathan’s going to be calling any moment to say we can go.  Don’t worry, they’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.  You don’t even know if Katie’s up there!  Or if Krieg found her!  Or if she’s still alive!  Or even if he is!  Don’t patronise me, Nathan!”

The flash of fire in her beautiful face was something that he could not help but find attractive.  But it was more than that with Kristen Westphalen, he liked the mixture of brusqueness and gentleness, her sharp intelligence, and most of all the kind heart that pervaded all else.  It was a strong attraction, by far the strongest he had felt for any woman since the loss of his wife.  One of these days, he knew, it would be time to act on that attraction.  But not here, not now.  The tour was coming to an end in a few months.  Time enough then, when they no longer had the complication of knowing the entire ship was watching their every move with interest.  For now, he merely took her hand.  It was enough to make Keller grin across at him, but he ignored the astronaut.  Her hand was cool and soft, and fitted perfectly into his.  It reminded him of his wife’s.

“I’d never patronise you,” he told her.  “I wouldn’t dare!”  He was rewarded with a smile, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.  Keller’s grin broadened, and Bridger shot him a look that said ‘butt out’, plain as words.  Keller turned his attention back to Levin and the medics, but still glanced across occasionally.

Ford’s unexpected arrival caused them all to sit up.  The commander literally leapt into the launch, hit the door control shut with a solid thump, and yelled at Crocker to take them up.

“I thought I told you to stay on the Bridge!” the captain snapped at his XO as the younger officer settled into the nearest seat. 

Ford looked totally innocent: “No, Sir, you asked me to take care of things.  I have.  Ortiz and O’Neill are monitoring the signal, and our position.  Darwin insisted on going out to search, so I let him.  Doctor Joseph has agreed to insult anyone who dares question our being here...  I took care of it all and now here I am!”

“And who’s running the ship?!”

“Phillips.  I thought it would be great training for him.”

Bridger shook his head, well aware of what the lieutenant would have thought of that.  He could see the from the look in Ford’s eyes why he had to come out here.  It was the same reason that he had wanted to go after Hitchcock in the first place.  They were good friends, had been for years, and there was no way he could sit by on the seaQuest and wait to see if they brought her home or not.

The launch shuddered gently as it cleared the seaQuest.  Levin silently handed out lifejackets.  Above them, the storm still raged on as a little dolphin sped his way to the surface.

 

\-----

 

Up on the surface, Krieg was convinced that the sea had grown rougher, if that were possible.  Earlier he had been able to shout to Katie, to send out flares, even at one stage to feed her the medicine she needed.  Now it was all he could do to hold onto her, living in constant fear that the next wave would sweep them apart.  Her chances then would go down from very slim to none at all.  He was not even sure that she was conscious now, he doubted it, but there was no way to be certain.  He was cold, wet and tired, and more than a little nauseous from being constantly thrown around, but his main concern was still the figure slumped against him.  It was difficult to tell even if she was breathing, they were being tossed around so much.

Something bumped against his elbow in the dark, and he looked around automatically, but could see nothing in the blackness.  Then a familiar whistle was just faintly audible for a moment between the crashing of the thunder and the waves.

“Darwin?”

A flash of lightning illuminated the area briefly, letting him see the ever-smiling face of the friendly mammal, bobbing up and down in the water in front of them.  Krieg gave a huge sigh of relief, and almost took in half the wave that immediately crashed over him in doing so.

”Darwin, you beauty!” he yelled over the noise of the storm.  “I’ll become a life member of the Dolphin Protection League for this!!  Katie!” he shook the still form in his arms.  “Katie, wake up, wake up, the seaQuest’s here.  Katie?!”

Darwin nudged concernedly at them, but no amount of shouting, shaking or pleading would bring the lieutenant-commander around.  The dolphin gave a low, mournful whistle, and swam in a slow circle around them.

Suddenly, the launch burst out of the water some ten metres away from them, and immediately illuminated the area with its spotlights.  The emergence sent a further wave of water over them all, which Darwin blew at disgustedly then nosed up against the humans once more.  Krieg moved to pull himself towards the launch, seeing it opening up and wanting to get them both on board as soon as possible.  But he looked down at his ex-wife, saw her deathly pallor in the ship’s lights, and a sick feeling of fear knocked him squarely in the stomach.  If there had been some sign of life he would have fought the waves, but as it was he floated there, still holding her, not quite able to believe it.

When the next wave crashed over them, he did not notice it at all.

 

\-----

 

Ford broke the seal on the inner hatch as soon as Crocker shouted down that they had reached the surface.  The bulky lifejacket was going to be a nuisance, but a necessary one, that much was obvious from the way the launch was being tossed about.  Crocker did not even suggest that anyone left the cockpit, the controls needing both pilots just to hold the craft steady.  Bridger, Ford, Keller and Levin stepped into the outer hatch, leaving the others behind.  Levin was busying himself tying lifelines to each of them in case they were swept out of the craft.  Westphalen tried to follow, but Bridger firmly turned her back.

“No.  There isn’t room out here for all of us.”

”Just for all you men!” she pointed out disgustedly.

“No room for the chief medical officer that we can’t afford to risk just now, no.  Don’t argue, Kristen, this isn’t a sexist thing.  We need you in one piece.”  Before she could argue further, he sealed the inner hatch on her protests.

Levin had not finished securing the ropes when Ford opened up the outer hatch, and he pulled Keller back until he had done so.  Bridger and Ford, however, stepped right out to the edge of the tempestuous sea, trying to locate their missing crewmembers.

“I don’t see anything!” Ford cried over the noise.  “You think that signal’s working okay?!”

“I hope so!” Bridger scanned the stormy waters, his vision hindered by the waves and the heavy rain.  Then he caught sight of Darwin, and saw Krieg a moment later.  “There!”

Ford did not waste any time at all.  Without even bothering to check that his lifeline was secure, he leapt straight into the water and struck out towards the motionless pair.  Bridger cursed briefly under his breath, but knew he would have done the same thing had Ford not been faster.  And if the commander got into any trouble he still would.

“To hell with it,” he muttered, and giving his own line a brief tug to ensure it was safe, he dived straight in after the XO.  Keller moved immediately to go after them, but Levin stopped him.

“No.  Someone has to pull them out!”

Bridger did not hear that, but was relieved when he was not followed.  He ploughed through the water, aware that Darwin had swum straight to Ford and more or less pulled him to Krieg’s side.  Bridger hoped the dolphin would do the same for him, tired as he was the water was almost impossible to make any headway through.

 

\-----

 

At first Ford thought that Krieg was alone out there save for Darwin.  He had to get quite close before he realised that there were two people floating there awaiting rescue.  Quickly he swam up to them, releasing the dolphin and grabbing hold of Krieg’s lifejacket.

“You found her!  Ben, you...” He stopped, seeing the other man’s expression.  Krieg was just staring down at Hitchcock, not even bothering to acknowledge Ford’s presence.  “No...”

Hitchcock looked terrible, unsurprisingly.  Her pallor was almost unnatural, and when he reached over to feel for a pulse, her skin was cold to the touch.  It was impossible to tell under those conditions, but he thought he could still detect life in her, and immediately turned back to the launch.  Bridger was directly behind him, and they almost collided in the water.  Bridger took one look at Hitchcock and signalled to Levin and Keller to bring them back in fast.

With Darwin’s help, they were back at the launch in minutes, but to each of them it seemed like hours.  Ford had shouted at Krieg that he could feel a pulse, but he knew that the man was not at all convinced, believing it a ploy to bring him in.  Ford wished that he could be certain himself, as they cut her free of Krieg and hauled her unconscious body onto the launch.

Even as he scrambled aboard, pushing Krieg ahead of him, Ford saw the inner hatch opening and Westphalen’s concerned face appear there.  It was against regulations to have both hatches open when a launch was surfaced like this, but it was an emergency and nobody was prepared to wait.  Getting to his feet, he sealed the outer hatch behind him, signalling quickly to Darwin that he should return to the seaQuest, then hurried into the launch and sealed the inner hatch.

As the launch submerged once more, Westphalen had Hitchcock in the recovery position on the floor, covered by a blanket, the woman’s remaining clothes in a sodden heap behind them.  Rapidly the doctor was running checks, but to Ford’s untrained eye the woman looked to be turning blue, and not to be breathing.  He sat and watched, gnawing on a thumbnail, ignoring his own wet clothes.  Krieg was kneeling beside Westphalen, steadily forming a small pool of water on the floor.

“How long has she been like this?” Westphalen demanded, not looking up from her patient.  “Minutes?  Hours?”

Krieg stared at the top of her head, a little dazedly.  “Can you save her, Doc?”

“Well if you’ll answer my questions I intend doing my damned best!  When was she last conscious?”

“She’s not dead?  I thought she was dead.  When...”

“Ben!” Westphalen snapped at him, then saw he was done in, and calmed down somewhat, using a more soothing tone.  “She’s still breathing, just about.  Now tell me all the stages she went through, and how long ago that was.  How much of that medicine I gave you did she take, and when?  And...” she paused, taking in the man’s own condition. “Let Josh take a look at you, Ben.  I don’t want you on the high-risk list as well.”

Ford watched Krieg bite back a further question, and reluctantly sit up beside Levin so that the doctor could examine him.  It did not escape the commander’s notice how shaky the lieutenant was after his long immersion in the sea, but it seemed to have escaped Krieg’s.  He reeled off everything that Kristen wanted to know, although he was not quite sure how long Hitchcock had been unconscious for.

At last Ford became aware of his own soaking clothes, as Bridger pushed a towel at him.  As he towelled himself down, making little difference, he still kept his gaze on the still figure lying on the floor.  Katie looked so pale, her wet hair plastered across her face.

Westphalen’s face was grim as she listened to the woman’s breathing.  Ford did not like to disturb her, but he was as concerned as Krieg over Hitchcock’s chances.  From where he was sitting, they did not look good.

 “We’re going in!” Crocker yelled down the cabin, and everyone braced themselves for the inevitable thud as the launch settled itself in the docking bay.

Immediately, Westphalen leapt to her feet and started issuing orders to the medics.  Hitchcock was on a gurney and out of the launch in moments, flanked by Westphalen and most of the launch crew.  Ford began to follow, but Levin called him back to help with Krieg.  The supply officer had got up as soon as the hatch was opened, and tried to go after the gurney, but his legs had given way under him before he was even through the outer hatch.  Krieg was not a small man, and Ford momentarily nursed the uncharitable thought that he should have got out of the launch faster so that Levin would have passed the job of lifting the protesting supply officer to the two security men closing down the launch.  As it was, Crocker came out just a few moments too late to help them haul Krieg onto the second gurney, which had been waiting in the optimistic hope that the launch would rescue two people rather than just the one.

“I’m okay,” Krieg insisted.  “I slipped!”

The ‘slip’ had caused him to crumple at the knees and fall face-first onto the deck.  His nose was starting to bleed, and Levin unsympathetically pushed a swab at him.

“Hold this against your face, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m okay!” Krieg repeated, and tried to get down from the gurney.  Ford pushed him back again and gave the trolley a hefty shove before the man tried again.

“Stay put, Krieg.  I’m not breaking my back hauling you up off the floor when you slip next time.  You can stay there!”

Sensing defeat, Krieg lay back, and held the swab up to his bleeding nose.

“Could’ve walked,” he mumbled, but Ford ignored him.  Crocker took the front of the gurney and together they guided it towards Medbay.

Levin, Ford noticed with disgust, was walking beside Krieg and not doing any of the work at all.  Ford knew from long experience that there was no point in arguing the case, Levin would do what every scientist or doctor he had ever known always did in such cases - assert that they were working, and just carry on walking.

To be fair, once they were in Medbay it was a different matter.  Levin only seemed to have been given one assistant, the rest having been seconded to the far more urgent task of treating the dangerously weak Hitchcock.  Ford could see them through the glass panels, swarming around her in the next room.  He could barely see Hitchcock herself at all, but controlled his urge to go in there, well aware that not only would Westphalen throw him straight out, but that he could be more help here.  Not that Krieg was in any real danger.  He was suffering from exposure, but it was treatable, and once they had got him out of the survival suit he had no choice but to lie under the warm blankets the medic brought in, whilst Levin strapped him up to several monitors.

Ford found his attention wandering back to the adjoining room again.  It was still virtually impossible to tell what was going on out there, but the bed was rapidly becoming surrounded by monitoring devices that made the few around Krieg seem as nothing by comparison.

“Jonathan.”

He turned back to the bed, guessing what Krieg wanted.  “I can’t see what’s happening, Ben.  The monitor lights are all blinking pretty steadily, though, I guess that’s a good sign!”

“Keep watching her.  Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t see much.  They’re...” he paused, as Westphalen moved away from the bed for a moment and he could see Hitchcock’s face.  Krieg immediately tried to get up, accidentally pulling a lead from one of the monitors attached to him in the process.

“What?  What happened?”

“Ben!”  Levin pushed him back down.  “Stay there or I’ll have security put you in restraints!”

Krieg ignored him, his attention focused on Ford.  “Well?” he demanded.

“Sorry.  She’s been put on a ventilator... it was just a shock to see it like that.  I guess she swallowed a lot of water out there.  Look, you did all you could, Ben.  At least she’s got a chance, she’d be lying at the bottom of the ocean now if it wasn’t for you.”

“No,” Krieg shook his head, his own self-disgust plain on his face.  “She’d be lying in her cabin, safely asleep in her bunk if it wasn’t for me.”  He lay back on the bed resignedly and stared up at the ceiling.

Ford did not reply.  He gazed down at the man for a moment, thinking about it, recognising the truth in what he said.  Then he looked away, out into the adjoining ward.  He could see Hitchcock’s pale face, half-covered by the respirator.  Katie was strong, he told himself, she would make it.  It was a belief that he found himself clinging to.

“Hey, Ben!”

Ortiz, Phillips, Shan and O’Neill’s noisy arrival drew his attention briefly away from Hitchcock.  They all still looked tired, but in far better spirits than he had seen them last.  The captain had gone down to relieve them all of an over-long duty, but instead of crashing out straight away they had elected to pay Medbay a visit.  Ford wondered what they had been told.  From their cheerful expressions it could not have been everything.  They crowded around the end of the bed, trying to keep out of Levin’s way.

“We brought you some grapes!” Ortiz told Krieg, waving a half-eaten stalk of green fruit at him.

“But we decided you wouldn’t want them, with their not being real food!” O’Neill added.

“So we ate them ourselves,” Phillips grinned, taking another.

”And they were delicious!” Shan finished.  The quartet snickered, at the stage of over-tiredness that they would have found anything at all funny.  Then they noticed that no-one else in the room was amused.

“Hey, we’ll get you some more!” Ortiz offered hesitantly.  “What’s up?”

It was Crocker who spoke up, having been silently watching the proceedings in the adjoining ward from the other end of the room.  Lucas had joined him in his vigil, woken by the noise, and sat silently beside the window, abandoning his bed once more.  “The commander’s not doing too good,” he told them, one hand squeezing the teenager’s shoulder reassuringly.

The four members of the Bridge crew moved across to the window, and looked out at the hectic ward beyond.  Unfortunately, Westphalen chose that moment to come bustling in, looking for Levin.  She frowned deeply at the sight of seven crewmembers all staring out at her struggle to keep Hitchcock alive.

“Josh, how’s Ben doing?”

The tall doctor glanced up from the monitor readings he was taking.  “Okay.  Nothing warmth and rest won’t fix.”

“Good.  Leave him, I need you in there.” She turned briefly to Ford: “Commander, this isn’t a side-show.  I want this room cleared.  Just you and my nurse stay and watch Ben.  Any change, call Josh back immediately.  And if he...” Westphalen stopped in mid-sentence, as one of her medics shouted for her, and she raced back through the doors into the other ward. 

Levin followed her a few moments later, but not before telling Ford: “Don’t let him leave that bed!” as Krieg was already struggling to sit up again, worried Hitchcock had taken a turn for the worse and wanting to see for himself.

Ford gave a heavy sigh, and dropped down into the chair beside Krieg’s bed.  “Stay put, Ben.  Nothing’s happening.  The rest of you... you all heard the doc.  Out!”

Bridger, he knew, would have been able to think of something comforting and reassuring to say, the captain had that knack.  But Ford was so tired, he would have liked to follow them.

The little group of visitors filed obediently out, O’Neill pausing briefly to snatch the grapes out of Ortiz’s hand and drop them quickly on the bedside cabinet.  Ford could hear them arguing about it as they got out of the door.

“What’d you do that for?  He won’t eat them!”

“I told you it was a stupid idea and they wouldn’t think it was funny.  But oh no, you had to make us all look like idiots...”

Ford tuned out as Shan and Phillips joined in, the argument increasing in volume the further away from Medbay the four of them got.

Beside him, Krieg shifted restlessly.  “You can’t see what’s going on now,” he complained.

“I couldn’t tell what was happening anyway.  They’ll tell us when she’s out of danger.”

“Yeah, I bet.”  He turned his head to see Lucas slipping into the bunk closest to the window and nodded to him wearily.  “You okay now, kid?”

Lucas scowled.  “I’m not a kid, Krieg,” he retorted immediately, then proved it by adding in a softer tone: “Yeah, I’m okay.”

”He’s okay,” Krieg repeated slowly, turning back on the bed.  “He’s okay.  That’s why he’s lying in Medbay, because he’s okay...”

Ford would have liked to turn off the sound of the man’s voice.  Krieg self-recriminations were starting to grate on his nerves.  The waiting was beginning to get to him, tired as he was after the overlong day.  He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes wearily.  “Shut up, Ben,” he murmured, and was mildly surprised when the supply officer did as he was bid.  He heard Crocker leaving quietly, then a few moments later the sole nurse was called away.  Silence hung over the ward, each of them listening to the faint sounds filtering through the wall from the adjoining room.

He had only meant to close his eyes for a moment.  But Ford had been awake for well over thirty hours, and his body sensed a chance to rest.  Before long, he was fast asleep.

 

\-----

 

Kristen Westphalen had done all she could for Hitchcock.  The engineer was at that stage where there was no more help available, save from herself.

They had drained her lungs, given her shots, put her on a drip, and done everything possible to warm her as quickly as was safe.  Unfortunately, ‘safe’ meant not very quickly at all, and the woman showed no signs of regaining consciousness.  Her lifesigns were still dangerously low, and Westphalen could not help but fear they might lose her even now.

“Come on, Katie,” she urged, taking the young engineer’s cold hand in her own and gently squeezing.  “Pull through this.”

But Hitchcock’s eyes remained closed, her face deathly white on the pillow.

 

\-----

 

Benjamin Krieg had lain in bed as ordered, waiting for news.  When all went quiet in the adjoining ward he bore it for less than five minutes.  Then he was struggling free of the bed and disconnecting the monitor, wrapping the blanket tightly around him and hobbling over to the window, careful not to wake Ford.

“Ben?” Lucas hissed from his bunk, starting to sit up with difficulty.  “What’s happening?”

“Nothing.  Go back to sleep.”

For once Lucas stayed put, still feeling the effects of his injuries and not really wanting to move again.  He sat up, however, alert and interested, as usual not wanting to miss a thing.

Krieg looked out into the ward beyond.  He could see Westphalen sitting beside Katie’s bed, talking to his ex-wife, her head inclined towards the woman.  A lone nurse was taking readings from the machine they had hooked Hitchcock up to.  No other medical staff were in evidence.  But it was Hitchcock herself to whom his gaze was drawn.  She lay there, still as death, with only the blip of her heartbeat on a nearby monitor to indicate this was not the case.

“Katie...”

He was not even aware that he said anything, too horror-struck by the scene before him.  She looked so pale, so motionless...

Krieg was through the connecting door and halfway across the room before he even realised what he was doing.  It startled Westphalen, but only momentarily.  When she saw it was him, her surprised and hostile expression softened into understanding and she forced what he recognised as her most kindly, reassuring smile.  The one she used when there was something seriously wrong and she wanted to convince people otherwise.  She got to her feet, and he knew she was going to shepherd him straight out of the room again.

”Let me stay, Doc,” he begged.  “I’ll sit so quiet you’ll forget I’m here!  Promise!” He tried to smile engagingly, but somehow it just would not come out.  His gaze kept shifting back to that inert figure on the bed.

I did that to her... he could not stop himself thinking.  ...because I couldn’t let go.

Westphalen stepped lightly over to him, still smiling too kindly.  “Josh obviously hasn’t checked your monitors in the last few minutes,” she told him.  “When he does, he’s going to come rushing back in here thinking you’ve died!  Don’t you think you should go and lie down again, just for the sake of his blood pressure?!”  She put an arm around him and tried to gently turn him, but Krieg stayed put.

“I turned the monitors off.  Let me sit with Katie, Doc.  Please?  I’m okay, I don’t need to lie down.”

Kristen looked doubtful, but relented anyway.  “I didn’t know you were a medical expert, Ben!  Okay, but get dressed, then keep that blanket around you.  Just remember your body is recovering from exposure too.  There’ll be clothes in one of the lockers back in the other room.”

There was certainly very little wrong with Krieg, that much was apparent from the speed at which he hastened back the way he had come.  Kristen barely had time to call Levin and explain why the monitors were down before Krieg was back, dressed in clean pants and a white T-shirt, the blanket around him as ordered.  He settled himself in the chair Westphalen had vacated, and after a moment reached out and took Hitchcock’s hand in his own, as the doctor had done.  There was no reaction from the still figure, and her hand felt cold and clammy. Tearing his gaze away from his ex-wife’s closed face, he looked around for Westphalen.

“She’s gonna be okay, isn’t she?  We pulled her out in time?  She’s gonna wake up?”

Westphalen’s carefully considered answer was not reassuring.  “It’s too early to tell if there’s any permanent damage.  I’m bringing her body temperature back up, that’s the most important thing at the moment.”  She glanced up at one of the monitors, frowned, then realised Krieg had noticed that frown and was drawing his own conclusions from it.  She added quickly: “She’s doing quite well, considering how long she was out there.”

“You mean considering she should be dead already,” Krieg told her morosely.

“No.  We’ve done everything we can, it’s just a question of whether she’s strong enough to recover.  Right now her temperature isn’t rising very fast, and that’s not good.  I can’t say one way or the other, but,” she hitched the blanket back up around his shoulders where it had slipped down, “you can bet I’ll do everything in my power to keep her here!” She squeezed him reassuringly, but the expression he turned on her was an essay in concern.

”Shouldn’t you be doctoring her or something?  Everyone’s gone, and she’s just lying there...”

“There’s nothing to do.  I told you, I’m bringing her temperature slowly back up, that’s all I can do now.  If you want to help, stay there and talk to her.  Sometimes the voice of someone close can help.”

“Close?!” Krieg echoed bitterly.  “I’m the last person she’s gonna let get close to her after this!  We were doing good, doing real good till all this blew up.  I thought maybe we’d even be getting back together...” he caught the instant doubt on Westphalen’s face and amended it to: “Okay, I hoped we would.  We were getting to be friends again, better than before.  That had to count for something.  And then this.  I’ll be lucky if she even speaks to me again!”  He paused, looking down at the pale face half-covered by the mask, and added: “Or if she ever speaks to anyone again.”

Westphalen bit her lip, sharing his fears but not liking to hear them voiced.  When she spoke again, there was a forced brightness in her voice, and Krieg could hear it even through his melancholy mood.  “Okay, here’s the deal.  I let you sit out here as long as you like, on the condition you remember you’re supposed to be the ship’s morale officer and stop spreading doom and gloom!  Think you can do that?!”

Krieg knew Westphalen well enough to have no doubts that she would carry out her implied threat.  But for once he could not bring himself to muster up even the vaguest  hint of his usual insufferable cheeriness.  He just nodded, staring at his ex-wife’s face.

Kristen stood for a moment, watching him  with some concern, trying to decide whether it would be better to send him away after all, or to let him stay.  At least here he could see Hitchcock was still alive.  For now.

“It would help,”  she told him gently, crouching beside him and putting a sympathetic arm around his shoulders as she leaned close.  “If you could talk to her.”  She chose her words more carefully this time.  “You’ve known her longer than any of us, just the familiarity of your voice might bring her round.  Sometimes it works.”

Krieg gave a low, bitter laugh at that.  “Yeah, right.  Every time I open my mouth where Katie’s concerned it’s the wrong thing.  Sometimes I just run off at the mouth... I’ll be talking and talking, and not concentrating on what’s coming out, then I’ll look in her eyes and I’ll see the full flavour of whatever I’ve spouted reflected there.  Once,” he paused, feeling the gold band still on her finger, cold beneath his touch, cold as her skin.  She often wore it, and when he had challenged her about doing so she had claimed it was the only thing worth keeping from their marriage.  Its true value was, after all, a great deal more than his supplier had been asking for it.  “Once I told her I never even loved her when I married her... I was trying to apologise for some other smart-mouthed remark I’d made to her already and somehow that just came out.  She took it okay... I guess she just passed it off as one more reason she’d gotten off lightly!  But I’d still hurt her, I could see it in her eyes.”  He turned back to the unconscious woman, leaning closer to her and rubbing her hand between his two, trying to warm it.  “When I thought I’d got her back, I promised her I’d never hurt her ever again... and it wasn’t even her, it was that thing!  And I guess that’s just as well, cos I’ve really screwed things up this time.”

Westphalen smiled at him kindly, reaching over to cover his hand with her own.  “Don’t rub her hands,” she told him gently.  “It does more harm than good.  A lot like your self-recriminations.  We could all blame ourselves.  Perhaps Jonathan or Crocker should have searched you when you left the ship, we all know what you’re like, Ben.  Katie herself should have reported you when she knew you’d taken the artefact.  Or perhaps if we’d listened to Lucas’s tales of his monster and believed them, or located the drain on the ship’s power faster, or told Doctor Joseph the truth from the beginning, or if I had specialised in this area of medicine... We could all blame ourselves to some degree for what’s happened, but it would be pointless.  What matters is the future, helping Katie recover, learning from what’s happened... maybe even keeping a better check on that tongue of yours, hmm?”

Krieg managed to grin despite himself at that.  “That’ll never happen!”

“No, I suppose that’s asking too much!”  Westphalen smiled back, glad she seemed to have got through.  She straightened, patting him lightly on the shoulder, and trotted briskly across the room towards her temporary desk, wanting to start a new batch of tests on the woman.  It was disturbing her that Katie’s temperature was not rising more quickly, enough that she was considering using chemical aid to stimulate the process.

As she crossed the room, she caught sight of Lucas still sitting up and staring at them through the window, and she frowned deliberately disapprovingly at him, then smiled to herself as he slipped down out of sight.  Westphalen settled herself at her desk, and began to prepare what she would need should the injections become necessary, leaving Krieg to sit with her patient, confident that the slightest change would be reported to her very loudly and very quickly.

Krieg sat quietly at first, not sure what to say, and half-afraid that whatever he said it would be the wrong thing and that Hitchcock would somehow hear it.  But it was apparent that she could not hear anything, and Westphalen was well out of range...

“Katie?”

There was, of course, no response.  He glanced back quickly at Westphalen, then leaned in close and began to talk, very quietly, for his ex-wife’s apparently unreceptive ears only...

 

\-----

 

The Bridge was unusually peaceful.  Most of the senior staff were off-duty, catching up on some much-needed sleep, and the juniors taking their place were too much in awe of the captain to make any sort of disturbance.

If the truth be known, Bridger was tired enough that he could have done with a disturbance to keep him awake.  When Levin had reappeared it had been a welcome distraction, and the news that Ford was asleep in Medbay was almost a joy.  It meant that he could hand over to the XO that much sooner and get some sleep himself, not having expected to do so until one of the lieutenants were rested enough to take over.

The news regarding his lieutenant-commander was less cheering.  Worse, because he knew that everyone on that Bridge had heard who they had rescued, and knew exactly why Levin had come in to see him.  Now they were all glancing at him when they thought he was not looking, silently wondering what he knew.  The entire situation since they had discovered the ship had created an intricate web of rumour and deceit which he disliked intensely.  Even now that it was over, the deceit still had to continue.

And there were other problems.  Doctor Joseph had decided to stay a few more days longer than the rest of her team, wanting to interview all those shot by the original alien, plus Krieg and Hitchcock, if the latter was up to it.  Joseph herself was still largely an unknown quantity, only time would tell if she would keep her word and remain silent about what she knew.  That particular problem was not one Bridger intended losing any sleep over, knowing that he was unable to do anything about it.  Then there was Medbay and part of the ventilation system that were now in need of repair, something which would take funds that he would have to explain away.  And then finally there was the problem of what disciplinary action to take over the artefact being smuggled aboard in the first place.  After all that had happened, he did not want to take it any further, but by rights Krieg should be thrown off the ship for endangering the crew like that.  He gave a heavy sigh, and several young heads turned to look at him nervously.  It was something he would have to give a great deal of thought, when he was feeling less tired, and when the full consequences of Krieg’s actions were known.

The young relief Bridge crew were still glancing around at him.  Rather than dwell on his problems, and wait for the next visit from either Levin or whoever Kristen sent along, he got to his feet and began a tour of the Bridge, knowing that it would unnerve them at first but also knowing that an individual word to each of them would help to put them at ease.

I’m not such an ogre, am I?!

He had never noticed this reaction on such a scale before.  But then, he had never been alone on the Bridge without a single member of his senior staff to act as intermediary before either.  Stifling a yawn, he moved to the nearest station, hands behind his back, trying to look pleasantly interested, yet imposing at the same time.

It was something the young man struggling with Hitchcock’s complicated station could have done without.

 

\-----

 

_“DOC!”_

Westphalen almost dropped the syringe she was carefully filling, Krieg’s panic-stricken voice rang out across the room.  Abandoning what she was doing, she shoved back her chair and virtually flew to Hitchcock’s bedside.

“She’s choking!”

Westphalen pushed Krieg out of the way and took in the situation for herself.  “She’s coming round.  Call Levin back in here, hurry!”

“She’ll be okay?”

“Get Levin!” Westphalen almost snarled at him, and the supply officer fled.

Hitchcock was coming round, but she was fighting against the respirator which needed to be removed as soon as possible, preferably before she came fully conscious.  Westphalen tried to calm the woman, stroking her hair soothingly, and talking to her in a reassuring voice.  But the engineer obviously had no idea where she was, or what was going on, and she continued to struggle to breathe.

“Kristen?  What’s happening?” Ford had been woken by Krieg’s cry, and come straight in.  “Is Katie okay?”

Westphalen ignored him, concentrating on her patient.  As she had hoped, Hitchcock’s temperature was already rising far more rapidly than it had when she was unconscious.  When Levin, Krieg, and two nurses came thundering back into the ward a moment later, she started issuing orders like a sergeant-major.  Krieg and Ford stepped back, redundant, and just watched in admiration as the skilled team removed the complicated apparatus with the minimum of fuss.

”How long was I out?” Ford hissed, angry with himself for falling asleep.  Krieg just shrugged, his attention fully on the doctors and their work.

“An hour?  Two hours?” Ford still got no reply, and gave up.  “I ought to relieve the captain,” he muttered to himself.  But with the person who had become his closest friend on the ship lying there, only just regaining consciousness, he could not find it in him to leave.  He edged closer to Krieg, and hissed: “Is she gonna be okay?”

“How the hell should I know?!” came the tetchy reply.

“She’d better be,” Ford retorted, not liking Krieg’s tone.  Anyone else, and he might have tried to understand.  But to Ford’s way of seeing things, Krieg was responsible for a whole catalogue of disasters in Katie’s life, and this was just the latest and worst in a very long line.  He was torn now, between anger over what had happened to his friend that he directed solely at Krieg, and admiration for the way the man had gone after her and saved her life.  But he knew that if he continued to stand and watch what was happening that admiration would fade and the anger would win, and he did not want that to happen.  If Katie's life ended here, like this, because of what Krieg had done...  Ford swallowed down his feelings and with difficulty found it in himself to pat Krieg’s  back, knowing the other man was hurting far more than he.  It was true that the man had succeeded in messing up both his own life and his ex-wife’s, but none of it had been done by malicious intent, just a lack of thought.

“Hey, she will be!” 

One of the nurses moved away the now defunct respiratory equipment, and he caught a proper look at Hitchcock.  Her eyes were open, and she was looking around dazedly.  Westphalen was leaning over her, talking to her, smiling down at her patient, a smile that was reflected on every face in that room save that of the  rather confused patient and also her ex-husband who still looked worried.  Ford strode over to the bed, his relief evident in the broad grin he wore as he called to his deputy:

“Hey Katie!  Welcome back!”

”You had us all worried there for a moment,” Westphalen added, brushing back her patient’s hair as Hitchcock looked around in puzzlement.  “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re back on seaQuest, you’re safe.  How do you feel?  Dry?  Cold?”

Katie nodded slowly, still looking a little dazed.  She opened her mouth to say something, but only succeeded in producing a hoarse rasping sound, and Westphalen shushed her.

“Don’t try to talk yet.  Your throat’s going to be uncomfortable for a day or two, we had to make sure you weren’t going to drown.  There was a lot of fluid in your lungs when you were brought in.  What were you trying to do, drink the entire ocean?!”

The corners of Hitchcock’s mouth twitched upwards into a tired smile, but she did not even attempt to make any comment, which told them all how much discomfort her throat was giving her.

“I thought so!” Westphalen teased, enormously relieved that the young woman had pulled through.  Glancing up at the monitor, she could see that Hitchcock’s temperature had improved slightly, and expected to see that improvement continue in the next few hours.  She kept smiling down at her patient, but her voice began to adopt a more serious tone.  “Now listen to me, Katie, I know you’re tired but it’s very important that you try to stay awake for a while...”

Ford backed off as Westphalen began to explain Hitchcock’s condition to her, recognising that his friend was safe and going to be okay.  Levin brushed past him, and silently handed Krieg back the blanket he had abandoned when Hitchcock had started to come around.  The supply officer reluctantly donned it again, not caring that he himself had been starting to shiver, too concerned about Hitchcock’s well-being.

“Maybe you should lie down, Ben,” Ford found himself suggesting, not liking the small, tired smiles that Katie was periodically directing at her ex-husband.  Krieg's eyes never left her face, and Ford could see all his fears becoming a reality.  “You don’t look too good.  She’ll be okay now, you don’t need to hang around in here, you’ll only get in the doctor’s way.”

Westphalen looked up sharply at that.  Ford had not realised that she was listening, hearing her talking gently to Katie.  “I’ll be the judge of who’s in my way!” she told him pointedly, moving over so that one of the nurses could give the parched engineer a few sips of water.  “And you’re top of the list, Commander!  Now you’ve finished your little nap maybe you’d like to give Nathan a break, hmm?  Go on, shoo!”  She flapped her hands at him dismissively, momentarily stunning him into compliance.  After he had taken a few steps, he turned back, looking as if he might say something, but changed his mind when he saw her still looking at him as if she were a schoolteacher about to scold a naughty pupil and beat a hasty retreat.  In a way, he was glad of the excuse not to have to watch further.

“The captain’s a brave man!” he muttered to himself, as he strode through the door to Medbay, heading straight for the MAG-LEV.  Fortunately, Westphalen did not hear him, too busy settling Krieg back into the chair he had vacated then running a few checks on his condition.

Krieg suffered the checks in silence, watching Hitchcock taking slow sips of the water offered to her.  Westphalen did not need her medical degrees to tell that the man was showing signs of going into a delayed reaction to what had happened, and immediately had the nurse bring him some hot, sweet tea.  Krieg regarded it a little dubiously, but when Westphalen insisted you do something it was a strong person who could even try to resist.

“It might not be much of a drug, but it’s a pretty good medicine!” she told him brightly, making sure that it all went down, and sighing as the blanket slipped from his shoulders yet again: “You’re my worst patient, Ben!  Even worse than Lucas!” she added, seeing that the battered teenager was hovering in the doorway once again.  “Oh, for heaven’s sake...” Getting up, she trotted across to Lucas, who looked tired and pale, but doggedly refused to lie quietly anywhere when there were people running around in the adjoining room doing things that from the empty silence of his own room sounded interesting and exciting.  Westphalen smiled fondly at the young prodigy, knowing that he was only going to get up again at the slightest distraction if she trotted him back into the adjoining room.  Instead, she gave in, deciding that as he was hurt it was okay to do so, and helped him over to one of the empty beds in Hitchcock’s ward.  Lucas smirked to himself, always pleased to get his own way, and sensing that he might have the chance of an entertaining view here later.  Westphalen, however, realised this.

“You’d better behave,” she warned in a low voice as she helped him into the bed and began to tuck him in.  “You’re not too old to be smacked!”

The grin immediately slid from Lucas’s face.  “You wouldn’t dare...”

Westphalen nodded seriously: “Just try me!”

Lucas decided not to.  He lay back and allowed her to check his condition, disgusted that it had all gone quiet as soon as he had been allowed in the ward.

On the other side of the room, Levin had gone in search of fresh coffee.  Lacking Westphalen’s cultural background, he did not have the same belief in the restorative powers of a mug of tea.  The nurse turned the covers down on Katie’s bed, then went looking for a cloth to mop up some water she had spilled whilst trying to give the patient a drink.  Krieg found himself abruptly alone with Hitchcock, as much as he could be in that ward.  So far he had not found his tongue, something that had rarely happened to him before.  But he knew his own penchant for opening his mouth without thinking, and also knew that Katie did not need that right now.  So when she turned her head to look at him, he found himself grinning like an idiot, just grateful that she had recovered sufficiently that she could turn her head and look at him.  Not so very long ago he had been holding her seemingly lifeless body in the midst of the ocean, convinced she was done for.  He forced his grin wider.

“Hi!  How’re y’doin’?”  He winced to himself as he said it, too bright, too breezy, too thoughtless.  She deserved more.  But then, he knew, she always had done.

Yet Katie smiled back at him, a small, beautiful smile in her tired face.  “Okay,” she managed to whisper hoarsely.

Krieg glanced around,  but Westphalen was still busy with Lucas, so he edged  his chair closer, and leaned forward, tenderly cupping the side of her face in his hand.  She still felt  cool, but not the deathly cold of before.  “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered.  “If I’d thought anything like this was going to happen, I’d never’ve wanted to go near that ship!”

She was still smiling weakly at him.  “It’s okay, I know,” she told him, her voice little more than a croak.

He leaned in closer still, not wanting her to strain her voice and unconsciously using that as an excuse.  “Can’t you just be a little bit mad?” he asked, only half-joking.  “I’d feel better if you were mad at me.  If you’re going to be all forgiving, it’ll just make me feel worse!”

Her smile broadened.  “I know,” she whispered again.  “That’s...” she broke off, coughing, and he quickly handed her the little cup of water, supporting her with one arm around her back as she half-sat up to drink it.

“That’s the idea?” he finished for her, placing the cup back on the bedside table and gently lowering her back down into the bed.  “Don’t try to talk, Katie, that’s my job, remember?!”

Hitchcock winced in mock-pain and nodded resignedly.

Westphalen had come rushing across the room the moment she heard the coughing, but found herself almost redundant and stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded, giving a small smile of approval.  Neither of them had even noticed that she was there, and although this was no great shock in Krieg’s case she was a little surprised at Katie.  As the two senior women on the ship they had become friends over the past year, and whilst she was aware that the younger woman was very fond of her ex-husband she had always got the impression that it was more due to a growing friendship than anything else.  Certainly some of the things Katie had let slip about their marriage indicated that there was no way she would ever get involved with anyone so... what was it she had called him?  Shallow, self-centred, machiavellian... No, Kristen had always thought that Katie would have been more suited to the far more reliable Jonathan Ford, and had even got the woman to admit this on one occasion.  Of course, they were on shore leave, sitting outside a bar on a Hawaiian beach at the time, lazily discussing the merits and otherwise of every man on the boat and a few more who were not.  Probably this was just the aftershock of what had happened, clinging to a familiar figure.  Of course, he had saved her, kept her alive until they could rescue her, and that had to count for something in anyone’s book.  And  then  there was whatever he had been saying to her whilst she  was asleep, something strong enough to pull her out of it.  Sometimes it took nothing at all, patients came around of their own accord, and it was a rare few that could ever recall what was said to them whilst they were under.  Still, a change there was, and something had caused it.  He had, after all, saved her life by risking his own once before.  It was what had stopped their fighting and provided a foundation for the friendship they shared. Finally catching Katie’s eye, she raised her eyebrows amusedly at the woman, immediately causing the engineer to flush faintly, embarrassed at being caught with her guard down.

”Don’t mind me!” the doctor beamed at them.  “Ben’s quite right, you’re not to talk.  Maybe you should consider a career change, Lieutenant?” she added mischievously.  “You’d make a great nurse...!”

“Oh yeah?” Krieg actually looked vaguely interested.  “Is there money in it...?!”

 

\-----

 

Twenty-four hours later, Westphalen had discharged Krieg but still had to handle an extremely restless Lucas.  When she was awake, Hitchcock was little better, beginning to assert that she felt fine and was ready to go back on duty.  Still very tired, she regularly dozed off now that she was allowed to, disproving her own theory almost immediately.

The ward was starting to look like a florist’s shop, and there had been several complaints from hydroponics about the number of blooms which had mysteriously vanished, only to reappear in her ward a few hours later.

Bored by the intricately technical conversation Lucas and Hitchcock had started up about improving the design of the stinger, Westphalen wandered out, intending to see how the repairs to her office were going.  She found Nathan Bridger coming towards her, wielding a small bunch of flowers as if they were a weapon.

“Not you too,” she muttered to herself, then strode up to him: “Nathan, how am I supposed to stop the crew stealing from Hydroponics if you’re doing it too?!  Katie has quite enough flowers in there, if anyone brings in any more I’m going to move Hydroponics into Medbay as the only way to protect what’s left of our rare blooms!”

Bridger watched her, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement, which did not help her temper any.

“What’s so funny?!”

He shrugged, still smiling.  “Nothing!  I brought Commander Hitchcock a tour guide to the Arizona Memorial, I’ve been saving it for the right moment,” he patted his bulging pocket.  “As for the flowers...” he offered them to her.  “I thought I should grab a few while there were still some left!”

Despite all her recent avowals, Kristen could not help but be pleased.  Taking a sniff of the gentle perfume, she accepted them graciously, delighted.  “Thank you!  And what are these for?”

”For being there.  It’s been a bad few days, but no matter what, with you and Jonathan I don’t even have to look around, I know you’ll both be there, supporting me.  It makes a difference.”

“Ah,” she smiled, glowingly.  “So I’m equal to Jonathan in your thoughts, am I?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I’ve finished checking!”

“And how do I measure up?”

Kristen smiled, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a light, chaste kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you for the flowers, Nathan.”

He raised an eyebrow quizzically, as if to say: “That’s it?!”

“We’re the senior staff on this boat.  We can’t be seen to  get involved.”

“True,” Bridger nodded thoughtfully: “But the tour ends in less than two months.”

“I know.”  Kristen let a slow, lazy, teasing smile spread itself across her face.  Snaking an arm  around his neck, she kissed him again, properly this time.  “I know...”

 

\-----

 

“...well, of course it was cold, and it was wet - those waves were like giant walls of water coming at me, and it was so dark you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face...”

“I gave you a torch, Ben.”  Crocker’s gruff interruption to Krieg’s already lengthy monologue raised a few snickers.

“It was dark,” Krieg maintained.  “I couldn’t swim and hold the torch.”

“He’s got a point there, Chief,” Ortiz admitted.  “But it doesn’t explain how he could see these... what was it?  ‘Giant walls of water’...”  He and Shan were sitting on the edge of Ben’s bunk, whilst O’Neill lazed across it.  Crocker and Phillips had taken the seats at the small table in the centre of Supply, whilst Krieg himself was standing up in front of them all, fondly relating the tale of his immense bravery, a story which was getting more immense and brave with every re-telling.

“Don’t encourage him, Miguel,” O’Neill advised, stifling a yawn.

“Those waters,” Krieg continued, looking pointedly at the communications officer, “could have been shark-infested...”

“Could have been...” Phillips echoed.  “Anyone else see the problem with this picture?”

“Darwin’s pool could have been shark-infested too!” O’Neill pointed out.

“If there were sharks in it!” Ortiz added with a grin.  “Which there weren’t!”

“A bit like Krieg’s ocean,” Crocker joined in.

“No, a lot like it!” Phillips finished.

Krieg looked around at them all as they made fun of him.  Again.  It had long been the favourite pastime of Phillips, O’Neill and Ortiz, but he was a little put out that recently Crocker, and now even the newly-arrived Shan had taken to joining in.  At least Shan was still too wary of his senior rank to directly insult him.  So far.

“Oh, that’s great!  I supply the heroics and you all supply the raspberries!  Great!”  He went on, not hearing the door open  behind him: “Just great!  You’ll see, they’ll probably make me Admiral of the Fleet for this!  Well... lieutenant-commander at least...” Krieg paused, seeing Ortiz was trying to draw his attention to the person behind him without being too obvious.  “What?”  He turned, and saw the captain leaning against the open door, arms folded, listening with a faintly incredulous air.  “Oh.”

“Oh?” Bridger enquired, straight-faced.  “Is something wrong, Mister Admiral, sir?”

“Ah... that was... ah... a joke, Sir!” Krieg tried to ignore the laughter behind him, and attempted a winning smile.  What resulted was a baring of his teeth that barely managed to turn his mouth up at the corners and certainly did not reach his eyes.

Bridger nodded, understandingly, and stepped into the room properly.  “Of course it was.”  Krieg looked relieved, but only momentarily, as Bridger continued: “What about the promotion to lieutenant-commander, is that a joke too?”

“Well... it was...” Krieg gave up: “You know me and my mouth, Sir!”

“Oh, I think so, yes.  And you know the rules about wilfully endangering the ship, Lieutenant.”

O’Neill winced at that: “Think it’s time to go, guys,” he suggested quietly.  Nobody argued, and the five of them headed for the door rather smartly.  Bridger called Crocker back, but let the rest of them leave.  Krieg’s attempt at a  smile had frozen into place on his face and gave him now an almost desperate look.

“Sir... Captain, if I’d known what was going to happen to Katie and Lucas,  there’s no way I would have taken that thing, wouldn’t even’ve touched it!”

”I’m sure you wouldn’t.  Nevertheless, you did touch it, and no matter what happened afterwards, I can’t condone the fact that you brought an alien object onto this ship, saw that it was more than just a hunk of rock, yet still said nothing.”

“I wanted to... I thought I’d get thrown off the ship for taking it... I was going to  ditch it out of an airlock first chance I got!”

“Lieutenant,” Bridger held up a hand to stop what he knew would be a long-winded and pointless defence.  “In view of everything that’s happened, this is very difficult.  You’re making it a whole lot easier by lying to me.  Understood?”

“Yessir... I wasn’t going to ditch it, Sir.  But honestly...”

Bridger raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“...I just wanted it for myself, I wasn’t going to sell it, and that’s the truth.  It was like it wanted to be with me, and I just didn’t want to give it up.”

“Okay.” Bridger gave a heavy sigh, not liking what he had to do, but having no choice.  “Commander Ford and I will decide what’s the  best way to deal with this.  That won’t be until Commander Hitchcock is well enough to defend her own part in it, so in the meantime...”

“Woah, Katie didn’t have anything to do with this!”  Krieg interrupted, momentarily forgetting himself.

“She knew what you’d done and she didn’t report you.”

“But... Captain, she’s been through enough!  And her career, she’s put so much into it...”

“That’s enough, Lieutenant.  You’re confined to quarters until further notice.”

“But...”

“That’s all!”  Bridger added, in a tone that brooked no arguments.  He turned to Crocker: “Chief, can I have a word?”

Krieg watched the pair of them step outside.  He had a fair idea of what was being discussed, and sure enough a few minutes later Crocker was back.

“So you’re my minder?” the supply officer asked disgustedly.

Crocker shook his head.  “No minder, the cap says as it’s up to you whether you choose to obey his order or not.  Course, if you don’t stay in here, if I know the captain then it’s high tide for you, Ben!”

“Thanks!” Krieg sat down heavily on his bunk.  “Oh well, there’s worse things than being shut in here!”

“Maybe.  Captain says I gotta confiscate some stuff, Ben.”

Krieg looked up, his heart sinking still further.  “Aw, Chief... not the private collection?!”

Crocker shrugged apologetically, but picked up the nearest half-empty box of spare parts, tipped it onto the floor and handed it to the supply officer.  “Sorry.  But at least you know they’ll be safe with Security!”

“Safe?!” Ben muttered to himself as he opened up the little cupboard where he kept the recordings and removed the false back.  “More likely they’ll be worn out...”

Lucas’s  note stared him immediately in the face.  “4 out of 10, must try harder...”

Yeah, looks like everyone thinks the same, little brother...

Feeling worse than ever, guessing correctly the circumstances under which Lucas had written that note, Krieg lifted down the recordings and filled the box without even a word of protest.

“That’s the lot.  Except for two, and you’ll have to ask Lucas where those went.”

Crocker’s weathered face creased into a heavy frown of  disapproval.  “Hey, now Ben, the captain ain’t gonna like you handing this stuff out to the kid...”

“I didn’t hand it out!  He took them...”

Crocker nodded sagely, not believing a word of it.

 

\-----

 

Lucas was enjoying being ill.

Several days had passed since his ordeal, and his injuries were no longer giving him more than mild discomfort.  Indeed, he was having to lay it on a bit thick now in order to be allowed to stay in Medbay.  Doctor Westphalen could not understand his change of heart, but he was well aware that Levin understood only too well!  Sharing the small ward with the crewmember permanently at the top of the Lucas Lust List would have been reason enough, but there had been more!  On the first night after Hitchcock was out of danger, Lucas had woken in a panic, calling out, thinking that the creature was coming for him.

At the time it had not been pleasant, and Lucas was still not keen on going to sleep in case the nightmare came back.  But his brief blind terror had woken the maternal instincts in everyone, and he was being cosseted like a baby.  Normally that would have infuriated him, but when it meant that Katie Hitchcock had appointed herself chief cosseter, he had no trouble coming to terms with it.  In truth, Katie felt guilty for his condition, knowing that if she had spoken up about the artefact immediately then the teenager would not be in such a mess.  But she had told no-one this, not sure herself why she had not spoken up, and bothered by all of the many possible explanations.  Blissfully unaware of her guilt, Lucas lapped up the attention.  He had already thought of a way to continue their re-acquaintance, and as she came back from the gym with Westphalen he decided to put his plan into action.  He particularly liked the way she looked after exercise, even the moderate amount Westphalen had put her through to check on her fitness.  Wet from the shower, she was still dressed in a vest and shorts and not a lot else.  Oblivious to his appreciation, Hitchcock smiled at him, sat on the edge of his bed, and began to towel her hair dry.

“Still not feeling like getting out of bed, Lucas?” Westphalen wondered, looking at him over the top of Katie’s head.  “You can’t stay there forever, you know?  Darwin’s missing you!”

Lucas felt a quick pang of guilt.  “Maybe I do feel a bit better today.  I might try to get up later, go and see him.”

“Good.”  Westphalen stuck her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, looking pleased.  “Katie’s on her feet now, back on duty next week!”

“I could go back now,” Hitchcock put in.  “But they won’t let me.  Now I have to sit in my cabin twiddling my thumbs for a week!”

Lucas understood that to mean she was leaving Medbay.  It was time for a rapid recovery on his part.  It was also his chance: “You don’t have to,” he told her.  “I thought we could work on a totally new design, something like the stinger only bigger, a fast mass transport.  I’ve been lying here thinking about it.”

“I think that’s going to take longer than a week, Lucas.  And no offence, but I’ve seen enough of these four walls to last me a lifetime!  I don’t think I could sit with you for the time it would take.”

“No problem!” Lucas pulled back the covers and jumped to his feet, causing both women to stare at him.  “I’m fine, I just didn’t want you to rush your recovery.  I thought if there was another patient in here, not getting better, you wouldn’t try to race back on duty.  But now you’re okay, I don’t have to pretend!”

Westphalen narrowed her eyes suspiciously, knowing him well enough to tell that he was up to something, but not quite having worked out what.  Hitchcock, on the other hand, saw in Lucas the little brother she had left behind when she joined the UEO, and took him at face value.

“Ah, that’s so sweet!” She stood up and impulsively gave him a hug, which almost brought on a relapse.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

Westphalen watched her protegee’s face, carefully, saw the faint flush there, and wondered no more.  She waited to catch his eye, then narrowed her eyes still further and silently mouthed “Oooh...” at him.  Lucas’s flush deepened but fortunately Hitchcock had gone straight back to towelling her hair and did not notice. 

“What about the mass transport project?” Westphalen asked Hitchcock, struggling back to a poker face.

“Mmm?  Oh,” Katie looked up and beamed at Lucas.  “We’d never agree on the name!  But it’s a great idea, Lucas, go for it!  Let me know if you need  anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll do that,” Westphalen commented wryly.

Lucas  squirmed, but fortunately that was enough for the doctor and she did not tease him any further, as much as she believed he deserved it.  Seeing Commander Ford entering Medbay, he used the opportunity to quickly distract her attention.  “Er... Hi there, Commander!”

Ford nodded briefly to the teenager, a little puzzled at his  unusual friendliness.  It was not that Lucas was ever actually unfriendly to him, it was just that normally they had  very little to do with one another, Ford being the last of the senior staff that Lucas would turn to in any given situation purely because he was the one the teenager knew the least well.  Ford personally felt that Lucas wrapped Bridger, Westphalen, Crocker, Krieg, and even Hitchcock sometimes around his little finger, and he did not intend adding his own name to the list.  So he just smiled, asked if the boy was feeling better, and once he had an answer to the affirmative he moved over to speak to Hitchcock, who had begun combing through her still damp hair.

“You look better,” he commented, unaware of the slightly  jealous look Lucas gave him.  “Coming back on duty soon?”

”Oh for heaven’s sake!” Westphalen exclaimed, before Katie could say anything at all.  “After what she’s been through, give the girl a break, Jonathan!  She’s okay, but I’m putting her on sick leave for a week.  So leave her alone!”

“Hey!” Ford spread his hands defensively.  “I was only asking!”

“I’m fine, Jonathan,” Katie assured him.  “I’m going  to use the time working on some refinements to the HR probe, it’s all arranged  with the captain.  If it was up to me I’d be back on the Bridge tomorrow...”

“And if it was up to me you wouldn’t be going anywhere near that probe for the next week!” Westphalen retorted.  “And as, technically speaking, it's up to me, I’d stop complaining if I were you!”

“You could work on the mass transport instead, with me?” Lucas put in hopefully, unable to stop himself, then regretted it instantly as Ford raised an eyebrow amusedly and pointed out:

“Now there’s an interesting offer, Katie!  You could call it...”

“I’m not calling it anything, I already said it’s your personal project, Lucas.”

“Oh,” Ford’s grin widened, and Lucas wished the floor would swallow him up.  “It’s that all right!  Katie, can I have a word with you?”

Lucas stared in round-eyed horror as Hitchcock got up and followed Ford out of the room, not sure what he wanted to tell her, but having a pretty good guess.  They passed Levin, coming in carrying a small grey box, but Lucas barely noticed him.  With remarkable restraint, he managed to ask Westphalen with only the smallest squeak of panic in his voice:

“What does he need to talk to her about?”

“Not about you, don’t worry.  And by the way, stop drooling on the Medbay floor, young man.  The cleaners are complaining!”

Lucas set his jaw in a firm sulk, and finally noticed Levin as the tall doctor dropped the box he was carrying at the foot of the bed.

Westphalen gently batted Lucas on the chin.  “Buck up.  Look, Josh has fixed your tapes for you!”

“Er... no.” Levin stopped her.  “Kristen, the ensign I asked to get these fixed refused to do them.  She said they were... ah...” he looked at Lucas, who had now recognised with shock the tapes he had liberated from Krieg’s quarters on the morning that the alien had attacked him.  “...pornographic.”

Lucas had totally forgotten about the tapes.  Assuming that they had been destroyed in the attack, or that he had dropped them, or that they had been thrown away with his ruined clothing, he had thought no more of it.  He had certainly never expected Levin and Westphalen to feel so sorry for him that Levin would have gone down to engineering and persuaded one of the trainees to re-house the tapes in fresh cases as a surprise to cheer him up.  It was a surprise all right, and from the look on Westphalen’s face it was one to her as well,  until she masked  that shock with a cool, disapproving look that bore into him.

“Pornographic...?” she repeated slowly, and Lucas saw the lecture from hell was about to descend on him.  He thought quickly.

“Ah... they’re not mine, they’re Ben’s.”

“Really?” Westphalen’s expression darkened.  “I’ll have to have a word with Mr Krieg!  And the captain, I think!  How could he...”

“No!” Lucas stopped her as she went to pick up the tapes, seeing that at any moment she was likely to march out of the room straight to the Bridge, and then Krieg would be in big trouble for something that, for once, was not his fault.  “He didn’t give them to me... he doesn’t know I’ve got them...  I... um... borrowed them.”

“You mean you stole them!” Westphalen’s brow creased in indignation.  “Lucas!”

“No, I would have given them back... I left a note, but then the creature came after me and I just ran for it.  I wouldn’t have watched it,” he added for good measure, trying to look guileless and not quite succeeding.  “It was just to wind Ben up...”

“Like hell!  You must think I was born yesterday!”

Lucas refrained from denying that, believing that the very fact that she was not born more recently was the reason he was about to receive a lecture, but keeping his mouth firmly shut.

“You were going to watch these, weren’t you?!  I’m going to have to speak to Ben about security.  If he must keep this sort of filth on the boat...”

”He’s getting better.  They were behind a false panel in one of his cupboards, you wouldn’t know it was there unless you were looking for it...”

It was not the wisest admission to make.

 

\-----

 

Hitchcock had sat and listened to what Ford had to tell her, and taken it all very calmly he thought.  She had even agreed with him that they could not let the fact she had known about the artefact’s existence pass without comment, at least she had once she heard that Westphalen and Levin would be submitting a report to the effect that it had given off hallucinogens which had temporarily adversely affected her reasoning and therefore nothing would come of it.  He had expected an argument, but she surprised him with her acceptance.

“Will it go down on my record?” was all she wanted to know.

“I don’t see how it can.  This is going to be a complete formality, Katie, nothing to worry about.”

“I see.”  She stared at him worriedly, her hands unconsciously twisting at the small gold band she wore on her finger.  He hated that ring, knowing where it had come from.  Once, he had asked her why she still wore it, and she had claimed that she just liked it.  Then she had changed the subject, which gave him all the answer he thought he needed.    “What about Ben?”

Ford’s expression tightened.  If he had his way Krieg would be off the ship and as far away from Katie as possible.  But it was too late.  He could see in her eyes that it was too late.

“That’s different.  He brought an alien lifeform onto the ship, and endangered the lives of crewmembers.  Both you and Lucas could have died.  You know we  can’t just let that pass.”

“Don’t you think  he learnt his lesson and won’t do it again?  Kristen told me what he did to save me.”

“I know.  And yes, I’m sure he’ll never try a stunt like that again, but if we let him get away with it what kind of message are we sending to the rest of the crew?  He’s an officer, Katie, not some kid, no matter how much he might act like it!  He knew it was wrong... hell, he admits he knew it was wrong... we can’t just overlook it, whatever he did afterwards.”

Hitchcock recognised the truth in that, but did not have to like it.  “It doesn’t seem very fair.  What’s going to happen to him?”

Ford shrugged.  “The captain hasn’t decided.  If everything was out in the open about the alien ship, it would be instant dismissal, no question.”

“But it isn’t,”  Katie pointed out unnecessarily,  struggling to keep her voice level and calm.  She had heard how weak the alien  became after she was released, and recognised what her ex-husband had risked for her.  She felt it was her duty to stand up for him in return.  “If he knew it was wrong, what’s to say the alien wasn’t influencing him as well?!  Come on, Jonathan, he deserves the same chance I’ve had.”

“Given his record, do you really think he was influenced that much?  Okay, I accept he’s interested in the subject, he probably didn’t pick it up for the money. I had his interest boring me stupid when he was ingratiating himself with Doctor Joseph... but that doesn’t make it any better.  Leave it, Katie, he brought this on himself, it’s not your problem.”

“He saved my life.”

“It was his fault you were in danger!” Ford retorted sharply, then added more gently: “Look, I don’t like this either.”

Hitchcock gave a brief snort of disbelief.  “You’ve never liked Ben.”

“And you’ve always liked him too much!”

“What’s  that supposed to mean?” she snapped, instantly defensive.

Ford regretted it immediately, but he had not been able to help himself.  All the suspicions that he had been nursing over the past few months had been building up until he could barely stand to keep quiet.  And now Krieg had pulled her back from the brink of death, held her through the storm, there was no telling how much damage could  have been done.  He did not even want to consider what Krieg might have said to her as he sat at her bedside talking to her until  she regained consciousness, or worse, how much of it she could recall.  Personally, Ford had always held the opinion that Krieg’s non-stop patter could send someone to sleep rather  than wake them from it, but everyone seemed to have forgotten that and  it was just one more thing that the supply officer was getting lauded for.

“It means be careful, Katie.”  He hesitated, then decided that they were close enough friends for him to add: “It’s okay if you’ve remembered why you married him, just don’t let that blind you to why you divorced him as well.”

Katie bristled visibly, as he had known she would.  “I haven’t forgotten that,” she seethed,  barely able to control the urge to shout at him.  “I’m defending him here because I don’t think you and the captain are being fair.  But no, you have to read more into it than that.  You know something, Jonathan, you’re as bad as Ben is!  I’d expect something like this from him, but I always thought you had more sense!”

With that, she jumped to her feet and marched back to the ward, leaving Ford looking after her, rubbing his jaw ruefully.  The joint shore leave which might have led to a deeper relationship would never happen now, he thought.  Not until Krieg had torn her heart apart again, at any rate.

“Yeah,” the commander muttered to himself as soon as she was safely out of earshot.  “Funny, but I always thought the same about you...”

 

\-----

 

There was a heavy silence hanging over Medbay when Katie marched back in.  The engineer was still too  angry to notice it at first, going straight to her bedside table and rapidly filling the kitbag she had brought down earlier for the purpose, slamming each item into the bag with such force that it was lucky none of it was breakable.  It was only when she turned and saw the shamefaced expression Lucas was wearing, combined with the rather stern one on Kristen’s face, that she realised all was not well with them either.  Whatever it was, Hitchcock decided she did not want to  know about it just now.

Westphalen had no such qualms.  “We could have used the punchbag in the gym if I’d known you were this tense, Katie!” she told her, coming up beside her.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, adding in a lowered tone: “This little enquiry isn’t going to damage your career in any way, it’s just a formality.  Didn’t Jonathan explain that?”

Hitchcock  sighed, and picked up the bag, slinging it over her shoulder.  “Yes, he did.  He also explained that the only thing stopping the captain having Ben thrown out of the UEO is the  fact that he wants the alien encounter kept quiet, but that he might well do it anyway!”

”Oh.”  Kristen glanced over at Lucas, who was of course listening intently, in disgrace or not.  “Look, why don’t I help you back to your quarters with that, then we’ll discuss this over a nice cup of tea?”

“Thanks, but no.  I need some time by myself.”

“So that you can brood and worry?  Katie, Nathan won’t throw Ben out of the UEO.  The worst he’ll do is demote him and get him transferred, and I don’t think he wants to do that.”

“It just seems so unfair!”

“Yes,” Kristen began to shepherd her towards the door.  “I think we’ll go for that cup of tea anyway, don’t you?  Hmm?”

Hitchcock  gave up,  and let herself be ushered out of the door.  They travelled to her quarters in virtual silence.  As her anger subsided, she used the time in the crowded MAG-LEV to think about what Ford had said.

Much as she hated to admit it, a great deal of her anger stemmed from the fact that she knew there was a grain... more than a grain... of truth in what he had said.  It had been difficult at first, working with her ex-husband.  They had bickered, argued and snapped at one another from day one, and she would never have imagined for one moment then that a  time would ever come when they would be friends.  Yet it had come,  they had learned to work together first, out of  necessity, then relatively quickly found that it was possible to speak to one another off duty without it ending in an argument.  It was a friendship, she had always told herself it was just a friendship, but Ford’s accusation had raised  questions within her that she was not sure she wanted to know the answer to.  More than once she had considered asking for a transfer just to be away from Krieg, but her pride had stopped her, refusing to be driven away by anything or anyone.  But that was many, many months ago.  If Bridger demoted him she was sure he would quit the UEO, and that would probably be the last  she saw of him, friendship or not.  She tried to think that this might be a good thing, that perhaps Ben had never been cut out for a life in any sort of military discipline and might be better off elsewhere.  But the image of his scared and  worried face in the torchlight, and the feel of his warm and solid body holding her tightly through the cold, deadly water kept pushing its way to the front of her mind.  And his voice, talking to her, telling her things that she could not ever remember hearing from him,  even before they were married.  Just his voice, she could not picture his face as he spoke, but could clearly remember hearing his voice over and  over.  She had no idea from where she recalled those words.

“Katie?”

It was Kristen’s voice now, drawing her back to reality.

“Hmm?” Hitchcock looked around, saw that the MAG-LEV doors were opening, and quickly followed the doctor out.  “Sorry, I was miles away.”

“I could see that,” Kristen smiled as they started down the corridor.  “I’m sure you could do without this on top of everything else.”

“I can handle it,” Hitchcock immediately insisted, almost as an automatic reflex.  “I’ve handled worse.”

“Mmm.” Kristen did not look convinced, still concerned about her patient.  “Look, why don’t we call in on Ben, see how he’s bearing up, hmm?”

“No.”  It was too short, too abrupt, and Westphalen looked at her askance, finally cottoning onto the fact that there was more wrong here than she had first realised.

“Okay...”

Quickly and quietly the pair went down to Hitchcock’s cabin, the brief, apprehensive glance that the engineer gave to the closed door of Supply only serving to confirm the doctor’s suspicions.  Once they were inside the cabin, with the door closed, Westphalen turned to face her friend.

“Okay, Katie, what’s up?  You and Ben were getting along just fine when he left Medbay, I know you haven’t seen him since, so what did Jonathan say that’s caused this change?”

“Nothing.  I’m just worried about Ben.  I owe him my life, Kristen.”

”And that’s why you ran past his door like a frightened rabbit?”

“I did not!” Hitchcock spluttered indignantly.

Westphalen raised one quizzical eyebrow, faintly amused but mostly concerned.  “Did too,” she said gently.  “Come on, what’s up?  It might help to talk, get it into perspective.  And I’m not going to  tell anyone, am I?”  She sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling  calmly, reassuringly.

Hitchcock bit  her lip, not wanting to admit any of what she was  feeling now  even to herself, let alone anyone else.  But Kristen was right, she  could be trusted, and it might help.  Sitting down beside the doctor, she tentatively began to relate what Ford had said, and everything  that had happened since  the discovery of the alien ship.  The flowers Ben had sent  her  after she got him a place on the exploration mission had wilted in the corner through lack of care, spreading a circle of shed petals on the table-top around the vase she had placed them in days ago, and she found herself staring at them the whole time she was talking.  It was easier than meeting Kristen’s concerned gaze.  Pouring out her heart did not come easy to Hitchcock, and  she  stumbled over certain incidents in a mixture of embarrassment and awkwardness, particularly the misunderstandings arising from the artefact and the very fact of whom it had conjured up for Ben.  Finally she finished,  and managed to meet Westphalen’s eyes.

“I still don’t understand why you’re avoiding him.  Ben doesn’t know what Jonathan said, even if it was  right,” the doctor pointed out.

Hitchcock shook her head.  “He’d know.  He’s known me too long, too well, he’d see it in me.”

“I think you’re crediting our Ben with an astuteness he doesn’t possess!” Kristen pointed out gently, raising a small smile from the other woman.

“Maybe.”  She paused, trying to think of a  way to explain that she needed to be seen to be in control, without it sounding bad.   “I just want to be sure I’m making the right decision here.”

“And that decision is?”

Katie shook her head: “It would all be so much easier if it wasn’t Ben!  I know what he’s like, I know all the things that infuriate me about him aren’t going to just vanish!  He’s... Oh, he’s better than he used to be, much better, and I guess I know what to expect so I’m more tolerant than I used to be too, but what if that isn’t enough?  We get along pretty well now, most of the time, I don’t want to  spoil that.  When we were splitting up, we used to fight like anything, it got to the stage where all one of us had to do was ask the other the time and we could have a screaming match over it.”

Kristen smiled kindly, assuming that the woman was exaggerating slightly. 

”No, we  really did.  He’d bought me a watch for my birthday, I’d left it at home, and... oh, it was just stupid.  I don’t want to go through anything like that again.  I don’t know why I’m even thinking about it.”

“You could try welding the watch to your wrist!”

“Not that!” Hitchcock laughed, despite herself, which was what the doctor intended.

“I know.  But I also know you, Katie.  You wouldn’t be acting like this if there wasn’t some part of you that really wanted him back.”

“But it’s not as simple as that, is it?  We work together.”

“Well,” Kristen moved confidentially close: “I work with our captain, but as soon as this tour finishes and he leaves the ship...” a wicked grin spread itself over her features. “...I’m not going to let that stop me!  He’s got this wonderful island hideaway...”

For a moment Hitchcock was surprised.  The romance simmering quietly between the captain and the chief science officer had been the ship’s favourite gossip for months, but neither party had ever to her knowledge made any comment at all on it.  Even on shore leave, Kristen had diplomatically skirted around the subject, knowing full well that no matter how reliable the chief engineer might be, Bridger was still her senior officer and would not be pleased to know that facts about his private life were being leaked.  Theory and gossip were something that could not be suppressed, of course.  Laughing, she confessed: “Sounds fun, but I can’t do that, we’re both coming back for  another tour.”

”Then don’t!  Go for a promotion on another ship... make Ben go for a promotion on another ship...  he’d be off like a shot if he thought there was money in it!  There’s always alternatives, Katie.”

“Yeah?  I’d always be wondering what he was up to, where I couldn’t keep an eye on him.  I can’t trust him, Kristen.  He’s always up to something.  I have to be able to trust him.  I guess that answers my question.”

“Maybe,” Kristen agreed.  She could not help adding: “But what is it you can’t trust?  Some of his deals are a little dodgy, true, but he’s never going to get into drug dealing or anything you can’t handle, is he?  It’s never anything really bad.”

“It’s still dishonest.  How do I know where that stops?”

Kristen could see the dilemma.  It was a problem she, along with most of the ship, had with Krieg all the time.  But none of them were cared for by him as much as this woman was.  “I know what you mean.”  She sighed, then squeezed the other woman’s hand in her own.  “Look, Katie, I never  told you this, but when Ben followed you, a lot of us tried to talk him out of it.  We thought he wouldn’t make it through, the creature looked as if it would disintegrate at any moment.  I’m not trying to tell you what to think, or what to do here, but if it’s just a question of trusting him... I don’t believe he did that simply out of guilt, Katie.  The list of people I’d risk my life like that for is very, very short.”

“I didn’t think you even liked Ben!” Hitchcock commented, trying to make light of a subject she was finding increasingly uncomfortable.

”He’s okay in very small doses!  But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.  And just as he didn’t risk his life for you out of guilt, so you shouldn’t go back to him out of a misplaced sense of gratitude.”

“It’s not that... or maybe it is... I don’t know!  I just feel like I want to give it another go, even though he’s totally wrong for me.  Why can’t I go for some high-flier like Jonathan or someone?”

“Because that’s not the way it works, my dear,” Kristen pointed out.  “Besides, what high-flier is going to risk everything for you like that?”

“Jonathan told me that if Ben hadn’t gone he would have gone himself.”

”Katie, if Ben hadn’t gone after you, I would have done.”

Hitchcock looked round, surprised by her earnest tone.  “Really?”

The doctor shrugged.  “Well, we’ll never know, will we?  Just as we’ll never know, when it came to the crunch, whether Commander Ford would have gone either.”

Katie chewed on her bottom lip, no closer to a decision.  But, she had to admit, Kristen had a point there.

 

\-----

 

Jonathan Ford had been looking forward to this moment for most of the past week.  Doctor Alexandra Joseph was packed and ready to leave the ship, and for once he was happy to accompany her, if only to make sure that she actually left.

Joseph and Keller between them had boxed and catalogued every single item that had been salvaged from the ship, including the minuscule remnants of the destroyed sphere that Krieg had brought back.  Joseph was already talking about making a study of it her lifework and had spent much of the past two days interrogating Krieg about it, until the predatory supply officer was starting to get a rather hunted look himself.  They had managed to keep her visits to Hitchcock to a minimum, basically because the engineer had not been prepared for the alien’s attack and therefore had little recollection of what had actually happened to her.  This had not prevented Joseph from insisting on spending several hours with the woman to make absolutely sure that Hitchcock did not know more than she was letting on.

It was not such a long walk down to the launch bay, even though Joseph with her usual self-consideration had dumped an overly-heavy bag into his arms as soon as he had appeared.  Keller walked part of the way with them, before dashing off to say a quick goodbye to his old friend and rival.  Ford liked Keller, admiring him for his bravery and always finding him easy company.  Certainly a lot easier than the acerbic doctor, who had been ignoring him and talking only to Keller as they walked.  Deprived of any other audience, she fell into step with the commander, who had gratefully been trailing behind up until then.

“Well, Commander, it’s been an interesting stay,” she began.  He could hear the ‘but’ even before she said it.  “But your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired.”

“It’s a boat, not a hotel,” he responded testily, already rising to the bait.  The woman brought out the very worst in him, unsurprisingly.  He believed she would bring out the worst in anyone.  Shifting his load, he began to quicken his pace, hoping to reach the launch bay as soon as possible.  Joseph noticed, and smiled.

“Speeding up, Commander?  Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me!  Strange, I’d’ve thought you’d be worried I’d tell the world what happened here!”

Ford slowed, regarding her worriedly.  In all that had happened, and in his eagerness to be free of her, he had forgotten the potential dangers of her knowledge.  Seeing the concern etched in his face, she laughed, and patted his arm.  He almost dropped her bag.

“Don’t worry, I’m not letting this one out.  It’s my baby now, I’ve taken enough material from this to make it a life study.”

“Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth.  Ahead the entrance to the launch bay loomed, he noted with relief.

”Any time.  For what I witnessed here...” she spread her arms.  “It’s what I live for.”  Stopping just short of the hatchway, she took the bag from him and placed it on the floor.  Ford watched her warily.

If she thinks she’s gonna kiss me goodbye, I’m outta here!!

“One last thing, Commander.  About the alien.  I know we’ve discussed the way it bonded first with Ben, then with you, but in all that I forgot the important thing.  It spoke to you just before it died.  You and that dolphin were the only ones.  Tell me what it said.”

Ford had not forgotten.  The caricature of Katie’s face, gazing up at him from desperately sad blue eyes  that were impossibly large, haunted his dreams.  And the memory of how much he had wanted to save it in that instant.  One word, mouthed silently, resignedly.

“It said goodbye.  That was all.”

She shook her head sadly.  “All those centuries waiting just to say goodbye.  All it could have taught us... what a waste.”

“Yeah.”

Joseph smiled, almost pleasantly.  “So,  we finally agree on something!  Must be time to go!” she stuck out a hand and he quickly shook it, hoping she would leave soon.  “Thank  you for a fascinating trip.” With that she picked up her bag and strode through the hatchway, leaving Ford gaping after her.  He could hear her berating the pilot almost immediately.

She said thank you!!!

Dazed, he almost collided with Keller as the astronaut came racing towards him, late for the launch now.  Keller grinned,  yelled out a farewell, and ran for the launch.  The seaQuest commander turned away, shaking his head.

Spaceheads....

Ford walked from the launch bay without looking back, and Joseph’s harsh voice was soon a distant memory.  His military-trained mind had already focused on his next objective, and unlike the departure of Joseph it was not one he was looking forward to at all.  Glancing at his watch, he began to walk  more quickly, stopping only momentarily to catch a MAG-LEV to the officers’ quarters then he was striding off again.  He did not like his task, but was too good an officer to show it.

It was Chief Shan that Crocker had sent down to escort  them to the Ward Room, Ford noted with some relief, seeing the oriental waiting patiently outside Krieg’s quarters.  Shan was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, probably  bored but Ford knew he would not hear a word of complaint.  He had expected Crocker himself to be here, and to be followed all the way back by the military policeman’s wearing voice telling him that it was a shame, so it was, and that in his day men were decorated for bravery, not demoted.  Crocker had already made his views perfectly clear, and was doubtless not here now because he was making them clear once again.  He and the captain were old enough friends that the security chief could get away with it if there was no-one around to hear.

Shan straightened when he saw the commander, then when Ford had reached  him and stopped he opened the door to Krieg’s cabin.  There was no idle chit-chat with Shan, he just got on with the job.  It was one of the reasons Ford liked working with him, it made life so much easier.  He would have taken Shan over Krieg any day of the week, no matter how good Krieg had proved himself to be in a crisis.  It was the everyday working with the man that was the problem, and they both knew it.

Krieg was sitting on the edge of his bunk, in full uniform, ready and waiting.  He stood up the moment Ford entered, cap in hand, his trademark predatory grin for once absent.  In its place was an expression hang-dog enough that Ford might have been taking him out for execution.  Krieg was looking around, looking past him now as if expecting someone else.  He could guess who.  The entire incident had taught Ford a lesson.  If he ever cared about a woman he worked with again as much as he cared about Katie Hitchcock, he was not going to worry quite so much about the professional way to behave.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Krieg jammed his cap down on his head, and went to the door, Ford following.  When the supply officer saw Shan was alone outside, his face fell further.  “Oh.”

“Expecting someone?” Ford could  not stop himself asking, relieved that Hitchcock was not there.  He was still smarting slightly from his run-in with her some days earlier, and felt Krieg was partly to  blame for that.

“I thought Katie would have come down.”

“And pulled you out, like she always does?  Not this time, Ben.”

Krieg frowned at the two men flanking him as they began the walk to the Ward Room.  “I haven’t seen her since I left Medbay.  Is she mad at me for something?”

Ford raised an eyebrow at that, and even Shan looked amazed.  “Now why would she be mad at you, Ben?!  I mean, you only embarrassed her in front of half the ship with your plaything... oh, and almost got her killed...”

“Okay!” Krieg almost snapped, forgetting himself momentarily, then added more respectfully: “I just wondered where she was.  Sir.”

“She’s with the captain.  Lieutenant,” Ford replied easily, amused but not letting it show.  A moment or two passed, before Krieg’s mouth opened again.

“Sir, I was wondering... do you know what the captain’s decided to do?  About me... and about Katie too?”

“Yes, I do.  We’ve discussed it at length.”  Ford walked on, giving nothing away.

“And?”

“And we reached a decision.”

“And...?”

“And you don’t honestly expect me to tell you what it was, do you?!”

“I guess not.  Katie’s gonna be okay, though, isn’t she?  It wasn’t her fault.”

That much was no secret, so Ford nodded.  “Yeah, she’s okay.  That’s just a formality.”

”Good.”  Krieg fell silent for a few moments, and the commander enjoyed the brief peace.  He had no illusions that it would last, and sure enough, as they boarded the MAG-LEV Krieg started up again:

“Am I going to dislike the decision you’ve made over me?”

“Oh yes.”

That shut Krieg up once more, and he sat gazing at the far wall of the shuttle, looking more concerned by the moment.  This time the silence held.

There had been a scene in the Ward Room, that much was obvious from the tense atmosphere when they entered.  Bridger and Westphalen were seated on opposite sides of the central table, the captain successfully managing to look totally unconcerned in the face of the doctor’s accusatory glare.  Levin and Hitchcock were seated uncomfortably between them, whilst Crocker stood behind Westphalen with his arms folded across his thick chest, also trying hard to look as disapproving of Bridger as he dared.

Bridger was calmly reading through Levin’s report, and merely glanced cursorily up at their entrance, told them to sit, and carried on reading.  Krieg sat down between Westphalen and Hitchcock, whilst Ford went around to join the captain.  He heard Crocker wishing the supply officer luck, and shook his head.  Crocker had been on the receiving end of that man’s money-making schemes more times than Ford cared to remember, yet still old loyalty and a sense of fair play made him come down on Krieg’s side. 

Silence.  Bridger continued to read the report.  Westphalen’s glower deepened, and Ford knew the silence was not going to last for long.  Hitchcock shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Ford threw her a reassuring smile that was not returned.  Hitchcock knew how to hold a grudge and had not yet quite forgiven him for his accusations.  But they had been correct, he knew that.  He could see it in the way her eyes kept flickering little glances at her ex-husband that she was trying to hide.  And when Krieg leant over, whispered something to her, then took her hand under the table, she did not pull away.  But she would not meet Ford’s gaze again, sitting up stiffly, rigid, facing the captain.

Crocker cleared his throat, loudly, and Bridger looked up pointedly at him, before resuming his study of the report.  That was too much for Westphalen.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake Nathan!  We’re all ready, let’s get on with it!”

Krieg gaped at her in dismay: “Hey, don’t put him in a worse mood!” he hissed.  “It’s my neck on the line here!”

Bridger kept his face totally expressionless.  It was a skill Ford envied him.  Closing the report, he folded his hands over the top of it, and looked quickly around the table, his gaze settling on Lieutenant-Commander Hitchcock.

“Okay.  We’ll start with you, Commander.  As you know, this report,” he tapped the papers in front of him “totally exonerates you and your part in this.  The hallucinogenic agent that the artefact emitted influenced your behaviour, and you’ll be returning to duty the day after tomorrow with nothing more than a week’s sick leave on your record.  Do you have anything to say?”

Ford found those startlingly blue eyes flashing briefly at him in defiance, then: “No, Sir, not on my behalf, but Lieutenant Krieg...”

“No.” Bridger put out a hand to stop her before she went any further.  “We’re discussing you here, Commander.”  He looked around: “Does anyone have any objections to my decision?”  There was a general shaking of heads.  “Good.  Now...” he looked directly at the supply officer, who met his gaze with growing dismay.  “Lieutenant Krieg.”

Krieg sat up straight, even straighter than Hitchcock had done.  He almost saluted, then remembered he was sitting down.  “Sir.”

Bridger sighed.  “At ease, Lieutenant.”  He looked to Ford, and the Commander recognised his cue.

“Lieutenant Krieg, you are charged with endangering the lives of everyone on this ship by wilfully bringing aboard an lifeform of unknown origin...”

“Now he thinks he’s reading for the bar!” Westphalen muttered to Levin, then added more loudly: “This isn’t a court martial, Jonathan!  I suppose you’re going to ask him how he pleads now!”

“Good idea, Doctor,” Bridger replied,  totally straight-faced, then looked to Krieg: “Well?”

Krieg had been staring at Ford as he spoke, his eyebrows climbing rapidly as the charge unfolded, his expression now one of total desperation.  “What?”

“The captain wants to know what you’ve got to say for yourself,” Ford said patiently.

“Oh...” Krieg glanced nervously at Hitchcock, who just tried to look supportive.  They both knew that there was very little he could say to dig himself out, and that the captain had already made up  his mind in any case.  But Krieg had never let a lost cause stop him talking, and now was not the time for a first.  “Well, I guess I’m guilty.  But you don’t know those hallucinogens weren’t working on me the moment I picked that thing up, same as Katie and Lucas.”

“Through your spacesuit?” Bridger pointed out.  “I don’t think so.  Especially not that quickly, since neither Scott nor O’Neill saw you take it you must have pocketed it pretty fast.  I accept once it was on the seaQuest the hallucinogens could have been a factor, but whilst you were on the alien ship it was your own conscious decision to take that artefact, and the consequences of that decision are too serious to ignore.”

”I didn’t think  it was anything, Sir.  I just wanted to take a souvenir.  I’m sorry for what happened, I’ve learnt my lesson... come on, you don’t think after what happened to Katie and Lucas that I’d ever do anything that dumb ever again?!”

“And that’s your defence of your actions?  That you didn’t think and that you promise not to do it again?”

Krieg floundered, not quite sure what to answer.  “Yes,” he said finally, uncertainly.

“I see.  Well, that isn’t good enough, Lieutenant.  You...”

“Oh for goodness sake, Nathan,” Kristen snapped.  “He risked his life out there, if that’s not making amends and taking responsibility for his actions I don’t know what is!”

“I would have died if Ben hadn’t come after me,” Hitchcock added more gently.  “I know it could be argued, and has been, that it was his fault I was in the water anyway, but he didn’t have to put himself in danger like that.  I don’t think it’s fair that you should demote him.”

“Hear hear,” Crocker said with feeling, then ducked his head, suddenly very interested in the back of Levin’s chair when Bridger gave him a warning look.

“I suppose you share their opinion?” Bridger inquired of Levin.

“Well,” the tall doctor leaned forward, resting on his elbow.  “I agree with both sides.  I think too much has happened to make retribution anything but pointless.  But while there’s no way the hallucinogen could have penetrated the suit, there was also a mental link we don’t, and can never understand, and that may have had some effect.”

“Thank you.  Lieutenant,” Krieg looked startled, as if he had been thinking they were discussing someone else.  “You’ll remain on the seaQuest, in your present capacity and on your current salary...”

Krieg breathed a huge  sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir!”

“I should think so.  In addition, you’ll remain on duty for an extra unpaid hour each day until further notice, in order to allow time for your additional workload.”

Ford could not help it, he smiled, and had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide it.  Fortunately nobody was looking at him.

“Additional workload?” Krieg echoed.  “What additional workload...ow!”  Hitchcock kicked him and he shut up quickly.

“The waste disposal tank, Lieutenant.  You’re on cleaning detail down there.  Once a day, directly after processing, I want that tank spotless.”

“But it’s self-cleaning!” Krieg pointed out desperately.

“Correction, it was.  Now it’s not.”

“But... this is a joke, right?” Krieg looked from Bridger to Ford, who was now grinning openly.

“No joke,” Bridger assured him.

“But it stinks down there!”

“Yes.  Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“But...” Krieg looked around at the little group who previously had been championing his cause.  They were all smirking too, partly in relief, mostly in amusement.  He pushed his chair back disgustedly, knowing he was going to get tormented to death over this one.  “Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”

Bridger looked around at the group of faces still around the table as Krieg left the room.  They had mostly stopped smiling, Westphalen in particular looked highly suspicious.

“Now what?!” he asked innocently. 

Kristen shook her head, slowly.  “You were winding us up,” she accused.

“Me?!” Bridger got to his feet, then, realising their eyes were still on him, added: “You didn’t  honestly believe I was going to throw him off the ship, did you?!”

“I thought you were going to demote him,” Hitchcock admitted.

“And I nearly did.” Bridger tucked the report under his arm, and headed for the door.  “I thought this would be more constructive.  It’s discipline our supply officer needs to learn, and if carrying out this cleaning detail for the next few months doesn’t teach him, nothing will!” 

He opened the door, and found Krieg surrounded by a small group of crewmembers, all obviously discussing what had just taken place.  “Lieutenant,” he announced sternly.  “If you don’t have any work to do, I’m sure I can find you some.”

Understandably, Krieg beat a hasty retreat, and his entourage scattered.  Ford found it impossible to hide his amusement, and Crocker was laughing quite openly.  Even Hitchcock was smiling to herself as she went after her ex-husband.

Bridger watched the group disperse, none of them looking particularly bothered by his decision.  All of them had at one time or another been caught out by one of Krieg’s little scams, and saw this as just desserts.  But as he began to follow Ford to the Bridge, Westphalen caught his arm.

“Just a minute.  Why didn’t you let us all in on it?  We could’ve enjoyed his expression as much as you two did!  That wasn’t fair!”

”You should’ve had more faith!” he smiled, putting an arm round her.  There was no-one around to see, and anyway it did not matter so much what the crew thought now that it was so close to the end of the tour.

“Hmm.  I’m not so sure I want this lengthy stay on your island retreat now I know you won’t even share a good joke with me!”

Coming up in the access tube beside the walkway, Darwin tapped his nose gently against the glass in agreement, and she laughed, leaning in closer to the man she had decided to get to know a whole lot better.  “See, even Darwin thinks you should have told me!” 

Within the tube, Darwin thought no such thing.  Lucas was still too incapacitated to take to the water, and the little dolphin was still swimming mournfully up and down the boat hoping that soon someone would decide it was time for a fast-action game of underwater football, his particular favourite.  From the way Bridger and Westphalen were smiling at each other, and their closeness, he guessed that there was not much chance of that.

Rising to the surface, and blowing disgustedly, he swam off.

 

\-----

 

Ben Krieg could hardly believe his luck.  He was not sure whether it was good or bad, but he could still hardly believe it.  He had fully expected to be coming straight back to his cabin, but to pack ready to leave, not to pick up his records in order to go and take an inventory of the mass of supplies that had begun to pile up in the launch bay since the previous day.  A large shipment had come in and no-one else had been assigned to deal with it.  Somehow the same importance was not given to covering absent supply officers as was given to covering absent engineers, or communications officers, or weapons officers, or... any other job on the boat.  Or so it seemed to him, at any rate.  Not wanting to cause any further trouble, he had hastened back to his cabin, not paying any attention to the numerous inquisitive looks he received as he did so.  His mind was working furiously, trying to think of a way to get out of the ‘extra duty’ he had been assigned.  So far, without risking further problems, he had drawn a complete blank.

“Ben!”  Hitchcock came trotting up behind him as he stopped to open his door.  “Didn’t you hear me call to you to hold the MAG-LEV?”

He had not heard anything, and told her so.  He opened up his cabin, then held the door for her.

“Trying to play the gentleman, Ben?  It doesn’t suit you!” she smiled at him, ducking under his arm and going inside.  “I hope I’m not going to get shot by a pet alien this time?!”

He winced, but she did not see.  “No.  Not even any interactives, Crocker confiscated them all.”

“What a shame,” Hitchcock told him with applied insincerity.

“Don’t tell me you’ve seen the light and finally want to watch one?!” Krieg began to pull the order books he needed from a large, disorganised-looking pile, and dropped them on his bunk.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah.  So,” he dropped the last of the books on the bed, and turned to face her, “You didn’t visit the condemned man... I was beginning to think you were mad at me again!”

Hitchcock shifted uncomfortably, balancing her weight mostly on her left foot, then her right, and back.  “I didn’t know what to say.”  It was the truth, even if he misinterpreted it.

“Worried about me, huh?” he grinned broadly, pleased.  “Y’know, I could still be in danger.  I could pick up some nasty disease cleaning out the sewage tanks!”

“It’s not sewage, Ben.  I wouldn’t try describing it as such either, the captain might get ideas!”

“True.” He bent to scoop  up the pile of books, then thought better of it and dropped them again.  “Katie,” he turned to face her, wanting to touch her, but not sure that he  would be welcome.  “No-one’s giving you a hard time, are they?  About what happened... with the alien... I mean... when I didn’t realise it wasn’t you...” he stopped, not knowing how to put it any more delicately.

“No, Ben.  I’m sure that’s one that’ll be saved just for you.  I’m being treated like china doll of the month right now.”

“Good.  For what it’s worth, I’m sorry...”

“I know.  Ben, you apologised to death in Medbay, it’s enough.  No more, okay?”

“Okay.”  He looked down at her.  “Miguel  said you were in the gym yesterday.  Does that mean you’ve fully recovered?”

“More or less.  Thanks to you.”

“No thanks to me is more like it!  You nearly died.”

“And I would have done if you hadn’t come after me.”  She hesitated just for a moment, then went on with what she had followed him for.  “Thank you for saving my life, Ben.” Reaching up, she kissed him, then hugged him to her.  An instant later she felt his arms automatically go around her, holding her tight.

“I’d do it again,” he whispered.  “Even if it wasn’t my fault you were out there.  I...” he stopped, as Katie pulled back slightly and put a finger to his lips to silence him.

“Don’t say any more.  I’m glad you’re staying on the boat,” she saw the old familiar hopeful expression rise in his eyes, and added with exasperated firmness: “Don’t read anything into that, Ben, please.  We have to work together, we can’t get involved.  Even a supersub like seaQuest is too small for our fights!  And if we can come through something like this, and stay friends, we’ll be doing ourselves a whole lot of good, careerwise.  We’ll be proving we’re not the same junior grades who screwed up on the Coleridge, which is what a lot of people are probably expecting now.”

“Careerwise,” he snorted disgustedly, releasing her.  He was disappointed, but not surprised.  “Is that all you ever think about?”

“No,” she gave him a last squeeze before she let go.  “I think you were pretty brave to come after me like that.  And I think it’s  nearly the end of the tour.  And I think..."

"Woah!" Krieg held up a hand to stop her.  "What's the end of the tour got to do with anything?  Are you trying to tell me once the tour's over then that's it, we'll go our separate ways and never see each other again?"

Katie blinked, startled, and he kicked himself mentally.  She had said no such thing, he had assumed the worst and as usual been unable to stop himself from running off at the mouth.

"Well..." Katie paused, but before she could collect her thoughts he tried to make amends.

"No, no, that wasn't what I meant... You were saying about the end of the tour... I hadn't thought about it until you said... But you're right, it's nearly the end of the tour..."

"Ben..." Katie began hesitantly, but he continued on:

"I'm staying on for the next tour, I thought you would be too... not that I'm trying to pressure you or make you feel like I'm only staying on because of you, because I'm not..."

"Ben...."

"Ah!  You think that's me being thoughtless again!  It wasn't!  Well... maybe it was... but then at least you know it's me and not some alien projection!"

"I'll remember that when I'm trying to control my rampaging lust," she remarked drily, watching his resulting discomfort with some satisfaction.  She could, she realised, milk this for years.

"Katie, honey, I'm sorry," he was all contrition and guilt.  "But hey, listen..."

She was not sure she liked the bright gleam that had suddenly appeared in his eye, and the rapidly forming wicked grin across his face.

"If you weren't so damned desirable this wouldn't have happened!"

Katie shook her head disbelievingly, smiling.  "No, Ben, if you weren't so damned thoughtless this wouldn't have happened!" His face fell, and she added quickly: "And if you 'd just shut up and let me finish, I'll tell you about the end of the tour!"

She settled herself down at the little table in the centre of his room, resting her chin in her hands, leaning on her elbows.  Ben glanced at his watch, knowing he should be dealing with those supplies, but also knowing where his prior considerations lay.  He sat down opposite her.

Katie tried to keep fairly brisk and businesslike, which was rather difficult considering the turmoil her emotions were in.  She had reached a decision regarding her ex-husband but she was still not totally convinced that it was the right one.

"When this tour ends," she began. "I'm leaving.  There's a couple of captaincys coming vacant, I'll be trying for those.  I have to move on."

"Aw, Katie.  I was gonna..."

"Let me finish!  I've thought about this long and hard."

"Wondered where you'd been," he muttered, and quickly shut up when she fixed him with a stern look.  "Sorry."

"I will not, under any circumstances, get involved with someone I work with."  She watched his face cloud with disappointment and took heart from that, continuing: "When I leave here, if you still want to try again then... I'm willing to give it one shot."

For a moment he just stared at her, stunned, not quite able to believe his ears or his luck.  "What... what did you say?!" he spluttered.

Stiffly, half-wishing she had kept quiet, Katie repeated herself.  She watched her words sink in and their impact reflect in his face.

"Katie!  That's great!" Ben was now grinning from ear to ear and he grabbed her hands across the table, pressing them in his own.  "You won't regret this, I promise you!"

Despite her decision, Katie was less than convinced.  A little voice was still quietly warning her that this could be a huge mistake, and that she had to stay in control this time, for the sake of her career if nothing else.

"One shot, Ben.  If you cheat on me, if you mess with my savings again, or if you start pressuring me for kids then it's over, finished.  Understood?"

"I guess... but hey, you said you wanted a kid!  When seaQuest found those orphans in that depot and you took charge of the little girl, you said it made you broody!"

"That wasn't what I said."

"More or less."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand.  Anyway, that's not what I meant.  Yes, I'd like a baby one day.  Not right now.  But what I don't want, ever, is someone beside me pointing out every baby or toddler we come across, waving packets of nappies in my face in the supermarkets, dragging me into baby shops on some ridiculous pretext, and generally putting me under pressure!"

"I never did that," Krieg was instantly defensive.

"Like hell you didn't!" Katie flared, pulling her hands away and jumping to her feet almost as an automatic response, then realised what she was doing.  "Oh great.  We're arguing already.  Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Ben."

He got up, and moved around the table, grabbing her arm and drawing her near, encircling her waist with his arms and pulling her close.

"Honey, it's a great idea, trust me.  It'll be different this time, I promise."

"Please don't promise, Ben.  You always sound so earnest, but you never keep your word."

"That's all in the past.  And it doesn't matter if you don't believe me now, because one day you'll wake up and realise I meant it."  He turned his head, burying his face in her hair to whisper in her ear: "I love you, Katie.  I didn't realise how much 'til I thought I'd lost you."

She could have pulled away.  She could have insisted, coolly, that he let her go, and wait until they were no longer working together.  But instead she slid her arms around him and held him to her, resigning herself to the fact that her feelings for him would never allow her to be as free as she would have liked.

Still she did not feel ready to make any such admission in return.  Far too much had passed between them for it to be that easy for her.  It would take time, like any healing, time and care.  And it felt safe, having him hold her like that, resting her face on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body as she had when he had pulled her back from the brink of death.

This time, when it felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach up and kiss him, it was her own choice, her own desires she was following, and her doubts began to fade.  And she knew, finding the sweet familiar taste of his lips on hers, that she was home.

 

\-----

 

 

Epilogue

 

Evening.

The fresh cool sea-water rushed past Darwin's face as he raced with the seaQuest whilst she glided through the water.  He found the large boat clumsy and noisy, but cared enough for what it held to stay with it.  Soon, he knew, they would want to go faster and call him inside.

A dark shape gave him a push, then darted past him in the water.  Immediately he sped after it, catching up easily and prodding the figure with his nose before shooting away.  Lucas, barely recognisable in the airpack he had to wear under the water, was back with him again and all was well.  The teenager was not quite as fast in the water as he had been before, but Darwin understood enough to realise that was a result of his recently-healed injuries and was careful with his friend as a result.

Leaving Lucas for a moment, the dolphin kicked his way to the surface to take air.  He was gone only briefly, then dived like a torpedo through the water to swim in a wide arc around the human, just out of reach.

This, then, was all he needed.  Food, companionship, and his own element.  But he heard the signal coming through the water to Lucas and although he could not understand the words, he understood the meaning.  Lucas gestured to him that it was time to return to the ship, that their game of tag was over.  Darwin swam in a slow, lazy circle, not ready to come in yet.

Starting to run low on his air supply, Lucas did not have that option.  He turned, and began to swim up to the boat, leaving Darwin alone.

Sometimes, the dolphin felt the call of the wild very strongly.  When Lucas had been out of action, and Bridger distracted elsewhere, he had felt keenly the isolation from his own kind.  Now, seeing the teenager going away from him, after what seemed too short a time, he felt it again.  Perhaps the time of mutual learning was at an end?  Bridger spent comparatively little time with him, perhaps Lucas was starting to do the same and it was time to leave?

The boat was signalling to him, the humans wanted him inside.  Defiantly he raced to the surface again, saw the sunlight and leapt up into it, splashing in the water, going down again ready for another leap.

And then there was a familiar voice coming through the vo-coder this time, reaching out to him through the ocean. 

"Come inside.... come home..."

Bridger wanted him there after all.  And Lucas, not yet inside, waved to him.  A different species perhaps, but more family than he could ever find in the wild now.

It was enough.

 

\-----

 

Far, far above the Earth, one small dolphin's song was winging its way across the dark vacuum of space:

_«In the spirit of co-operation and knowledge, the residents of our planet welcome and invite you...»_

 

\-----

           

 

 


End file.
